


Everwood

by Punk



Category: Everwood
Genre: Episode Recaps, Episode: Colin the Second, Episode: Deer God, Episode: Episode 20, Episode: Fear Itself, Episode: Home, Episode: Moonlight Sonata, Episode: Pilot, Episode: The Miracle of Everwood, Episode: The Price of Fame, Meta, Queer Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-08
Updated: 2003-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk/pseuds/Punk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recaps and meta for nine episodes from season one. Posted in the order they were written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Price of Fame [1.13]

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal during the first season. What started out as an email to [wearemany](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wearemany/pseuds/wearemany) quickly got away from me.

# The Price of Fame and Knowledge

 

The WB voiceover for this episode starts us out with "a choice between first love and new romance," and that doesn't apply just to Amy.

I'm noticing Colin and Ephram are often framed similarly in this show—alone, against a background that other people enter into. The first shot of Colin in this ep is like that. He's just standing and then Amy enters into his frame carrying his letterman's jacket. This is like "Vegetative State" when Ephram was watching Amy organize Colin's party and the popular guy and then Amy's friend Kayla both came into his frame. For Colin and Ephram, people have to come to _them_ , but it's also that they're alone and unsure of how to reach out and step into someone else's space. That's something that will change, even as soon as the end of this episode.

At school, slow-mo shot of Bright, Amy, Colin, and Kayla walking across the yard. It's like 90210 meets Reservoir Dogs. It's a little-used cinematic technique <sarcasm> to show us how _cool_ they are. And, dude, I'm ashamed to say it works. This super-cool image is contrasted with Wendell and Ephram wheeling their bikes to the rack in real time, which says nothing so much as: dorks on bikes.

Amy tells Colin his class schedule. Colin is in journalism with Amy. I'm so sorry, Everwood writers, but use your brain. This school does NOT have a journalism class. They must have meant they're on "the paper" together. Anyway, Colin asks if the teacher likes him. Amy says: "Everybody likes you, Colin." That's something she _knows_ and Colin's going to take her word for it. He'll exploit that power later. By having his group accept Ephram, Colin will try to bring Ephram to him instead of going to Ephram, showing Colin is just as manipulative and damaged as Ephram is.

 

Later, in the boys' bathroom...

Ephram is washing his hands. Colin comes up behind him and just sort of stares.

Colin says, "I know you." And that's probably the first time he's had a chance to say that and it clearly feels odd to him. He makes a face, like he doesn't quite believe it himself. When Ephram admits he _is_ that kid from New York, Colin says, "I thought so." And we later learn Colin's lying, he knew who Ephram was, but, still, here Colin is realizing he DOES know Ephram. He knows everything about Ephram he's expected to know: Ephram is that kid from New York. And it really is that simple. Colin needs to be friends with Ephram for that very reason. Needs to have that lack of expectation from Ephram. Colin doesn't owe Ephram anything, and he likes that. Unfortunately for Colin, Ephram's feeling guilty for having kissed Amy and thinks that's why Colin is talking to him.

Ephram badmouths Bright to Colin, convinced Bright ratted him out, but Colin doesn't even react, just keeps plugging along on his "Your dad saved my life" track. And apparently Colin remembers Andy, too, because he met him a few times in rehab. So already the Brown family is going to seem friendlier and familiar and more comfortable than anyone else in Everwood.

Colin tells him, "You're cool with me," and offers his left hand, since his right is in a sling. Ephram puts his right hand out by habit and since they can't shake hands like that, it leads to a more intimate type of clasp. Right there in the boys' bathroom, and since most teenage boys wouldn't be caught dead touching in the bathroom, this says a lot about them. They either have no sense of self-preservation, or they don't care what people think about them. I'm betting it's the latter.

Ephram seems embarrassed and disturbed by Colin's easy acceptance.

 

Lunchtime and the Hallowed Ground of the Cool Kids' table:

Wendell and Ephram are walking together, Wendell jabbering on about the lunchlady's lunch. They're clearly headed for an empty table to sit by themselves, but Colin calls Ephram over to sit with them. Ephram turns down the offer, but Wendell grabs him by the arm and tells Ephram that he can't turn down the call of the popular table. It's his duty to sit there.

Ephram initially rejected the offer because he didn't want to sit with Bright, who hates him, Kayla, who hates him, Amy, who's ignoring him, or Colin, who's showing an inappropriate interest in Ephram as his father's son ("They say he's some kind of a genius."), but as soon as Wendell tells Ephram he can't turn down an invitation at the cool kids' table, Ephram changes his mind just like that and sits down. He's impressionable, our Ephram. Some part of him must have wanted to go over there and test Amy. He wanted to sit there, but needed an excuse first.

He's got it now. Plus a seat between Colin and Bright and across from Amy. Colin is saving SO many seats for Ephram this ep. One at lunch, one at the play, one _on his lap_ , but that comes later.

Colin is totally throwing the lunch table dynamics off, and Ephram and Bright are butting heads in a little power play because Colin doesn't understand they don't get along.

Colin says, "You all know Ephram." And for once Colin probably knows Ephram just as well as anyone else at the table, except for Amy, and that has to make Ephram very attractive to a boy who can't remember his own girlfriend.

Now, I'm ignoring the medical mystery of the week because it's not sexy at all, but this week Andy's treating Cancer Patient Evelyn, who doesn't want people to know she has cancer. Earlier she said to him that "nobody knows" she once had cancer, but it's back and she asks Andy "Does Edna know?" (about her cancer). Knowledge is a big theme in this ep—what you can know about a person, how knowledge is power and a kind of disease at the same time because it spreads and can't always be controlled or contained.

Back at the lunch table, Colin is being earnest and friendly, but he's the only one. Amy says hi to Ephram and Colin says, "Right, you guys obviously know each other." But Amy denies knowing Ephram and Ephram's little heart breaks. He's close to crying most of this ep.

Colin, though, insists, "You're both sophomores, I mean you must have some classes together?" Colin is _surrounded_ by weird people he doesn't know and none of them are being honest with him. He has to be _so_ frustrated. Still, he's very thoughtful of Ephram. Amy gets up to get a soda, and asks Colin if he wants one; Colin doesn't, but he tells her to wait and asks Ephram if he wants a soda. This is total love triangle stuff, but generally it's the girl doing this to two guys.

Or a guy with two girls, e.g.:

Chloe: You want a soda, Clark?  
Clark: No, but, Lana, you want something?

Ouch. Right?

Colin isn't oblivious to Amy's and Bright's reactions to Ephram, but he doesn't _care_ either. He needs Ephram's approval. Because Ephram is the only one who can _give_ him approval for this new Colin. Ephram is the only one not judging Colin against his past self. Ephram is Colin's last hope!

Bright doesn't like Ephram because Ephram is threatening to replace Bright in Colin's life, and because Ephram is trying to replace Colin in Amy's life. But it's also because Ephram isn't from the right crowd. Ephram is a nerd and doesn't belong with the popular kids. It's probably that simple for Bright, who on the drive home encourages Colin to "stick with our old routine, the way it used to be."

Colin is quick to catch on that Bright is talking about Ephram. And the knowledge theme comes up again, as well as Colin taking advantage of his inherited position as top dog. Inherited because _this_ Colin isn't the one that used to wear this letterman's jacket.

Bright: "Yeah. I mean, he's not like us, Colin. Trust me, I know him. And I know you, it's like ketchup and peanut butter. Really bad."

Colin: "As far as I'm concerned, he's one of us now. So just work it out, okay?"

Colin is KING, and the king has spoken. Another plot I'm ignoring for similar non-sexiness is the musical being put on by Cancer Patient Evelyn. It's _The King and I_.

 

Night, at the Browns'...

Ephram is at home, listening to angsty boy music: "she loves to spit on me, forging her lies"...cue...AMY!

Amy: "What exactly is going on between you and Colin?"

This show has set up its love triangle like every good WB drama should, but it seems to have gotten the legs...queer.

And thank god for that.

Ephram says maybe Colin thinks Ephram's pretty. Ephram clearly doesn't have a problem with his masculinity. Amy doesn't want Ephram hanging around Colin and begs Ephram not to tell Colin that Amy and Ephram kissed.

Ephram gets _extremely_ cagey and manipulative. He appears to let her off the hook by promising he won't tell...unless, he says, Colin asks directly, because Ephram isn't going to lie. This is, of course, said in an obnoxiously righteous way, because Ephram is very hurt.

Ephram's a very vindictive boy. He's got nothing to lose by telling Colin _Amy_ kissed him (Ephram), but Ephram knows it would destroy Amy. Eventually Ephram will also come to understand that, at this point, if Colin knew Amy had kissed Ephram, _Colin_ wouldn't care all that much either. Ephram only feels bad about that field trip kiss because Amy feels guilty about it and keeps denying her part in it.

Amy gets panicky and insists that it'd be better for everyone if Colin and Ephram weren't friends, after all, it's not like they have anything in common. Understandably, this upsets Ephram since it's a well-known fact that Colin is the Greatest Guy Ever. Ephram sends Amy away. Ephram has a habit of dismissing Amy. In "Vegetative State" after Amy follows Ephram away from the party and then decides to return, he tells her she'll have to go back alone. This week, he tells her she'd better leave before he gets into more trouble because of him. It's the only control he has over their relationship. He can't make her come to him, and he can't resist going to her, but he can send her away from him.

 

The Next Day:

Ephram is now the new "it" boy at school. He's "Colin-approved." This is how much power Colin has. He doesn't remember his locker combination or how to get to class, but if he taps someone, they're instantly popular. Ephram is now "E" and just as popular as he was previously _un_ popular. That has _got_ to piss him off.

Gym, which seems to be all boys! Ephram is in a maroon t-shirt and lounging on the bleachers. Bright picks Ephram first for teams, but Ephram isn't even _listening_. He's so used to being chosen last that he didn't even hear his name. He finally gets up and goes to stand next to Bright, who is acting fake cheery while matter-of-factly picking out the rest of his team. Ephram's sort of yipping at him like a tiny confused dog.

Ephram: "But you hate me."

Bright: "No, I don't. I like you."

Ephram: "Since when?"

Bright: "I've always been fond of you, I'm just... I'm shy, you know." [choosing] "Al."

 

After School Special:

Parking lot. Bright is driving Colin and Amy home. Ephram's about to bike home, but Colin stops him. Here's where mumbling gives us instant slash because Colin offers to let Ephram sit on his lap. Even the closed captioning translated it that way.

Amy suggests that maybe Ephram just wants to bike home, and Colin asks why he'd want to do that. Colin reaches for the bike so they can put it in the back of the truck (Colin could _not_ have done that himself; I don't know what he was thinking), and Ephram flips out and starts yelling:

"Look, I don't need a ride, OK? I don't need to be sitting at your tables or playing on your teams or any of it."

He yells at Colin, telling him he has no interest in being Colin's charity case. He's yelling at Colin as a proxy for Amy because Ephram _can't_ yell at Amy. Colin is the part of Amy that Ephram can have, or yell at, as the case may be. Ephram's going to figure this out very soon. But for now, Ephram yells at them all to just leave him alone and go back to ignoring him the way they did before. Yes, Ephram's instant popularity has clearly made him very uncomfortable.

 

Tomorrow's Another Day:

It looks like after school or before school. Ephram and Colin are in a hallway. There isn't anyone else around.

Colin tries to talk to Ephram and Ephram walks away, but Colin calls after him, admitting he lied. He didn't want to be friends with Ephram because of his dad, Colin wants to get to know Ephram because Colin _doesn't_ know Ephram:

"I don't know you. But more importantly, you don't know me. You're the only person in this school who doesn't expect me to remember them or expect me to be this guy that I don't even know who he was. You know, I'm trying to please all these people but it's wearing me out, man."

Knowledge again. What it means. What it expects.

Colin wants to be with Ephram because it's easy, but he's also worried that Ephram doesn't like him. Because, as Amy said, _everyone_ likes Colin, so why doesn't Ephram? Colin asks why and Ephram actually seems sheepish, or caught.

Ephram: "Who says I don't like you?"

Amy is now lingering in the background where only Ephram can see her (perfect blocking, it ties in with the plot), and Ephram tells Colin that they're cool. Ephram's choice to accept Colin is now a product of Ephram's frustration with Amy. Amy told him to stay away from Colin, to, basically, stay away from her. Ephram is doing this to show Amy he can. Clearly this is a boy who enjoys doing the exact opposite of what he's told.

Colin and Ephram move off down the hall, in each other's space. They've stepped together, they're no longer totally alone in their frame. They move off camera, bonding over Bright's cliquey stupidity. Amy is left blurry in the background, behind them where neither of them can see her.

 

But wait, that's not all you get! If you order now for our special TV offer you'll also receive:

A special bonus scene at the opening of _The King and I_!

Ephram and Andy are sitting together going over the program. Colin comes over and thanks Andy (for doing his surgery). Thing is, I can't figure out why Colin's thanking him. Colin probably can't either. It probably feels like the right thing to do. Colin doesn't want to be dead, but he doesn't want this life they've given him either. He wants something for himself, and maybe now that Ephram has accepted him, Colin feels like he can build something for himself and can then thank Andy for bringing him back.

Colin has saved a seat for Ephram again, but Ephram says he's fine sitting with his dad. Colin moves off and Andy asks if he and Ephram are friends now. Ephram says kinda, that it turns out they have some stuff in common that surprisingly has nothing to do with Amy.

That is both true and untrue. Ephram and Colin are both outsiders, but I think Ephram initially befriends Colin specifically _because_ it annoys Amy so much, and Colin is looking for friends outside his normal circle because he can't stand disappointing Amy all the time.

Irv takes over on the meta for us: "[Evelyn] called it the holy time. But you don't have to be an actor to know how the holy time feels like. It's that breath you take just seconds before you become the person you were meant to become. For some people, it feels like forever. And for some, it's a moment over far too fast."

Colin and Ephram are still figuring out who they're meant to become.

And that's the first ep Colin and Ephram speak to each other.


	2. Colin the Second [1.14]

# You can never go home again.

 

"Colin the Second" was brought to you by the letter M, the number 2, and the themes: winning & losing, playing & observing, time & homecoming.

This Everwood episode was dissected by Punk.

Teaser: Peak County High School gym. The basketball team is practicing for the first game of the year, homecoming. The coach needles them, calling them ladies and threatening them with the dishonor of field hockey. In the background behind the coach, Colin is in street clothes, bored and sprawled out on the bleachers. The team runs back and forth on the court with Colin yelling "Time!" periodically. He's got a stopwatch. He's the timekeeper.

Bright makes a pass that ends up in the bleachers and Colin catches it left-handed and starts dribbling. The coach sends the team out to run laps and then tells Colin he's been a big help, which is exactly as uninspiring as it sounds.

Colin walks out of the gym dribbling the basketball. He passes the trophy case in the hall, takes a few steps, then turns around screaming and heaves the ball at it. The glass shatters.

Irv helpfully voiceovers: "For players and fans alike, the game is a crucible for our dreams. Both those that are realized, and those that go inexplicably awry."

Excellent, Irv, thank you. You make it possible for regular people to watch TV and not get confused by overly subtle metaphor. Not that _your_ metaphor made any sense, but I'll forgive you since I never listen to you while watching the show anyway.

The camera is apparently in on the conspiracy. It zooms in on a team picture from last year, showing Colin and the tear that now surrounds him courtesy of the flying glass. Broken glass = car accidents = fragmentation. It'll happen again later.

And there, in the first five minutes, we have everything we need to know about this episode. All the themes are lined up.

 

Back from commercial. The Browns' kitchen. Andy is totally Officer Infodump in this riboflavin scene, and it's a cute and pointless little bit of family interaction, but it'll show up later when Ephram and Colin are studying together. Ephram's such a comic nerd with his manga. Could he be anymore adorable? Andy sneaking around with his post-it notes is reminiscent of Colin's need to write everything down.

Andy harasses Ephram about getting a new piano teacher, signing Ephram up for the "playing vs. observing" theme of the episode:

Ephram: "I've been playing."

Andy: "You haven't been playing. You've been playing around."

Like everyone this episode, Ephram has to choose to be a spectator or a participant in his life. Andy tells him he isn't going to push, and Ephram leaves, squeezing Delia's shoulder on his way out the door. Such a good brother.

Andy goes outside to wave Delia's bus off, turns around and finds some guy on a ladder, messing with Nina's gutters. Andy is so sad and disappointed and surprised when he sees Nina kiss the ladder guy, who turns out to be her husband Carl. Andy just can't keep control of his face. He's realizing that he's just become part of the audience to Nina's life, and he doesn't like the feeling.

 

American History and the Art of Gerrymandering:

The teacher asks a question and Colin is the only one with his hand up. She reluctantly calls on him to explain gerrymandering. Colin clearly knows it, but can't get the words out. He manages "voting," which will of course come up, again, _later_ when the homecoming court is announced (see: "sympathy vote"). The teacher tells Colin it's okay, but Colin says, "Just give me a second. I read this stuff."

Colin wants time. It's the one thing everyone's having a hard time giving him. Colin knows the answer; he just needs time to figure out how to say it so that other people understand. Just like Colin knows he's not the same person as he was before the accident, but hasn't yet been able to articulate that in a way other people will accept.

Sitting next to Colin, Ephram at first looks interested in Colin's attempt to answer the question, then he starts to look embarrassed and then pained as he glances away from Colin and back again several times. Ephram does this a lot with Colin, like Ephram just can't look at him for any length of time.

Colin says, "They wanted to win." Which is what gerrymandering really boils down to, but also works just fine as one of our major themes: winning in basketball, popularity, love, and life. This show doesn't fuck around. It tells you what it's about, and all things lead back to it: basketball games, Delia wanting a Miners hat, Ephram's piano lessons, Nina & Andy & Carl, and the history test.

The history test that will be on Thursday. "Be here and be prepared or suffer the consequences," the teacher says. The class files out, but the teacher stops Colin and says, "You're doing just fine, Colin. Remember, you're just expected to observe now."

Colin's supposed to observe, not play, and it's driving him crazy. He doesn't want special treatment. This is his life, not a basketball game.

Ephram catches up with Colin in the hallway, ready to sympathize. Colin is angry, saying he doesn't even know what he's doing there.

Colin: "I'm just wasting everybody's time."

Ephram: "She should've let you finish."

Colin: "Yeah, well, the period's only 50 minutes long."

Like Colin yelled in the teaser, "Time!"

Ephram says that the teacher is just trying to make it easier on Colin. Colin says she's not, that none of them are.

At their lockers, which are inexplicably near each other, Ephram launches into a _Memento_ -inspired solution to Colin's problems and Colin gives him this look that's absolutely priceless. Colin has no clue what Ephram's talking about, but it's also obvious Colin doesn't _mind_ , because Ephram's treating him like he's normal. This prompts Colin to ask for Ephram's help on the history test, saying if he can show the teacher he can do the work, she'd treat him like everyone else.

Ephram says, "She'd treat you like crap again?"

"Exactly. See, it gives me something to look forward to," Colin says, widening his eyes and looking goofy and adorable. "I mean, if you've got time."

More time. Colin is asking Ephram to wait for him while Colin figures out who he is. Ephram thinks about it in his usual shifty/guilty way and then accepts. It could be read that Ephram is still nervous about kissing Amy, or that Ephram is now nervous about liking Colin more than he likes Amy. It's so wonderfully ambiguous. This scene also gives us a hint about Ephram's motivation for being friends with Colin. If the people that are trying to make Colin's life easier are actually making it more difficult for him, then Ephram's going to be the person that helps Colin challenge and redefine himself.

Colin's locker has a bumpersticker on the inside that seems to say: "He who laughs last, laughs the slowest."

Amy shows up, greets them, says to Colin: "Can I talk to you for a second?" When Ephram doesn't leave: "Alone?"

But no one moves and Amy's friends show up, squealing about Colin and Amy getting chosen for homecoming and how no sophomores have ever won (this show has no clue what year Colin is) and that they pulled the sympathy vote and they're the bomb.

Ephram looks upset, but, again, it's hard to tell whether that's for Colin or because Ephram will never be Amy's homecoming king. All through this, Colin is watching Ephram to check his reaction. Surrounded by Amy's friends, Colin wants to share this with Ephram, the only friend Colin picked himself instead of inheriting from his former self.

Colin stares at Ephram. "You hear that, Ephram?" We're the bomb."

And suddenly that "we" takes a slight turn from Colin and Amy to Colin and Ephram, simply because Colin is addressing Ephram and excluding the rest of the group. Colin is so hostile and helpless in this scene, looking to Ephram for commiseration and feeling totally trapped by other people's expectations of him.

 

Everything You Need to Know About Carl Feeney But Didn't Care Enough to Ask:

Carl is who Colin the First would have grown up to be. He's the hometown hero. The girls all love him and the guys want to be him. He's the guy who won the big basketball game and can recite the last five seconds of play like a poem. Carl married his high school sweetheart and comes back every year for the homecoming game. He hasn't missed one in 19 years. He'll come home for a basketball game, but not to spend time with his wife.

 

The Doctor is in:

Andy, Colin, and Colin's mother, and I totally don't know her name. I don't know either of his parent's names. They're nonentities on this show. We only see them when the scene revolves around Colin's physical health, and rarely when it deals with his emotional health. They're never around. Not like the other parents are. We never see them eating together, or watching TV or harassing Colin to clean up his room or call his grandma. The transcript says mom's name is Sharon. She's not wearing her gold cross today.

Andy can't tell Colin how long it'll take him to get better, and Colin lashes out, saying that Andy's supposedly the best but he still can't tell Colin a thing. Colin's the timekeeper again. Time is the only thing that'll let him get better, and Andy can't even give him an idea of how long he'll have to wait.

Andy tells Colin that he was released from the hospital early and he returned to school early, which is a concern Andy voiced in "The Price of Fame," too. Andy speaks to Sharon privately and tells her that school may be too much stress for Colin, but Mom says that it's no different than if he'd moved to another school. She is grossly unprepared for the adjustments Colin will have to make, and Andy tells her this.

She says, "Right now, Colin needs to get on with his life."

Right now, as opposed to later, which will come in the next time we see Carl Feeney. Andy knows that Sharon is unwilling to face the truth about her son, and so lets her go with a sad nod: "See you in two weeks."

 

PCH gym again: basketball team practicing in the background. Amy and Colin are in homecoming boot camp, learning about who needs to stand where and when and with what arm.

"Right arm for boys, left arm for girls," the teacher calls, poking us all in the eye with the point: Colin isn't physically qualified to be king, but he's dutifully taking notes anyway.

Bright comes over and tries to tempt Colin into going to a party later, promising someone's hot stepmom will be there. Nice, Bright. Your sister is standing right there. She's in love with Colin. You do remember that, right? For her part, Amy doesn't seem to notice she's being insulted.

Colin says he can't go to the party. Ephram comes into the gym and walks right up to them, something he never would have done in the last episode. Bright's in his Miners jersey, #10. Colin and Amy are in street clothes. So is Ephram, but he's wearing a zipped sweatshirt that says BROOKLYN across the front. As always, way to be subtle, Ephram.

Colin explains that Ephram is going to "take him" to study for the history test. Amy offers to help but Colin totally brushes her off, and Colin and Ephram leave together. They're dressed similarly, in jeans and dark shirts; they're about the same height and basically look the same from the back. So very cute.

Bright and Amy watch them go. Bright says, "Remember when the three of us used to hang out?" Remember when is a good game. Let's play with our next contestants Carl and Nina.

 

Everything You Need to Know About Carl and Nina's Outdoor Store:

Carl wants something huge and grand and is willing to wait for it. Nina wants something small and theirs, right now. It's Nina's "we could make this happen _now_ " versus Carl's "we could buy our _dream store_ later." This is where time runs smack up against homecoming and then rubs elbows with playing vs. observing. This is the potential for future greatness vs. the disappointment of reality. This is Colin the First vs. Colin the Second. This is the Colin that came back vs. the Colin everybody misses. It's willful ignorance against personal awareness. Cue Bright...

 

Basketball Break:

Turns out Bright doesn't play as well without Colin. He's getting benched for the big game. He whines at the coach: "I just need to get my rhythm back without... I just need to find my rhythm."

Coach says: "We all miss Colin. He's a good player with a lot of heart. But he's not playing this year."

They miss Colin. He's still there, but they miss him. He's watching the game, but he's not playing. Colin the First is gone.

 

Study Break:

Ephram finds another piano teacher, this one stuck to the screen of his laptop. He peels the note off and says to Colin, "Matthew Lansing. Does that sound like the name of a good piano teacher?"

"How should I know?" Colin says easily. Colin doesn't mind not knowing. Ephram rambles at Colin unapologetically—like his _Memento_ monologue—and Colin's free to say he doesn't know and it's not a big deal.

Ephram totally has a study plan. Colin says, "It's a shame you've never been in a coma. You would have done great in rehab."

Ephram's such a nerd with his chronological lists and systematic way of approaching things. He's totally his father's son. Ephram made fun of Andy about the riboflavin debacle the other morning, but Ephram's soon going to learn how hard it is to gauge your audience when you're dealing with a subject matter that's familiar to you.

Andy calls for Ephram and, lost, Colin asks, "What should I do?" Ephram tells him to get cracking on the timeline and then goes outside to find Andy screwing around with the gutters, something he's only doing because he saw Carl doing it.

Ephram yells into the house that he'll be right back, and Andy's surprised to hear that Colin is over. The man clearly has no clue what's going on in his own house.

Andy asks how Colin is and from Ephram we get: "I'm his friend, not his shrink."

As wearemany pointed out to me, Andy says Colin still needs lists to remember things, but not apparently to remember Ephram. Andy's worried that Colin is pushing too hard, but Ephram refuses to psychoanalyse Colin. Ephram stubbornly says that if Colin wants to take the stupid history test, then Ephram is going to help him.

Again, Andy knows more about Colin's recovery than the people around him want to acknowledge, but Ephram's trying to be a good friend, so Andy just nods. Andy is very protective of Colin, continuing on from "Vegetative State" when he commented that it might be too much to throw Colin a welcome home party.

Ephram goes back inside where Colin's staring off into space.

"How're those lists coming?" Ephram asks, bringing to our attention that Colin's life is just a list of names and facts, as distant and removed to him as ancient history.

Colin sort of startles awake and Ephram sits down. The camera pulls back through the window, showing Colin and Ephram at the table together, with Ephram continually glancing at Colin and Colin not seeming to notice.

 

Thursday, American History X:

Here's Ephram being an underachiever with his C+. He must have been so worried about Colin that he didn't get any studying done himself. Colin got an A and Ephram jokes that Colin will have to help him study next time.

Colin says, "Yeah. Hey, will you check yours against mine?" It doesn't sound mean, he's probably just trying to get his point across without having to say it, but his paper is full of scribbled writing with the second page completely blank.

Ephram realizes how naive he was being. "Okay, I'm an idiot." But Colin's resigned, "No, you're not."

Colin's obviously thinking he's the idiot, and the scene ends on him, sitting at his desk with his Miners jacket on, and the A he got for being in a car crash. The next scene opens with Bright sitting on the couch at home, watching cartoons. It's the evening of homecoming and Harold comes into the room carrying Bright's Miners jacket.

These jackets play a subtle but important role in this episode. They're a symbol of status, of belonging, of playing the game. In "The Price of Fame," Amy returns Colin's jacket to him before he even gets in Bright's truck for the ride to school. It's important to her that he have it, but Colin couldn't care less. He only puts it on because she wants him to. In this episode, the jacket highlights the fact that though Colin looks like his peer group, he still can't relate to them. Here, Bright's father brings his jacket to him because Bright's given up on being part of the team without Colin. Even Carl Feeney plays a role in this cautionary tale of letterman's jackets and personal identity. We'll see him later.

 

Meanwhile, back on the couch, Bright's sulking because he's not a starter:

Harold: "Well, the bench is an integral part of the team."

Bright: "Yeah, the part the other team makes fun of."

The other team, the starting players on _your_ team, pretty much everyone, and Bright knows it. I'll bet you anything HE used to make fun of the bench, and now he's stuck there because Colin's not playing and Bright says he sucks without Colin.

Harold remarks that Bright misses Colin. Bright says they used to be like a team within a team, and he compares them to Jordan and Pippen, but strangely calls them by their first names like they're all great friends. Harold continues the comparison, assuming that Bright is Pippen, which must be a disappointment for Harold, having to admit his son is the lesser of two boys. Not that Scotty Pippen's a loser (oh, wait, he's playing for Portland, YES HE IS), _ahem_ but not even Pippen can stand up to the fame of Michael Jordan...or Colin the First, in this case.

Harold subtly tries to encourage Bright to move on and stop depending on Colin so much, but Bright simply (er, pun intended?) says, "Well, things'll be better as soon as he gets back to his old self."

Bright is going to be waiting _so long_ for that to happen.

 

Browns' Kitchen Redux:

Andy's sneaking around with his post-its again, trying to remind Ephram of something he doesn't want anything to do with, and again echoing Colin's constant note-taking. Delia, who apparently likes to eat, suggests Andy FORCE Ephram to take lessons and reveals that Julia would have just yelled at Ephram. Andy's surprised that Julia yelled and asks if she ever yelled at Delia. Delia is so adorable when she says, "Not as much, but I'm easier to handle." The Browns' fridge has stuff magnetted to it, what looks like Delia's artwork and possibly some homework assignments. Andy must have seen that on TV.

 

The Very Last Thing You Need to Know About Carl Feeney Because I Can Tell You're Getting Bored With Him:

Carl Feeney still has his Miners jacket. Yes. He's That Guy.

More talk about now vs. later on the sporting goods store. Fantasy vs. reality. Carl says, "You fell in love with Carl Feeney, who everybody wanted to be."

Carl says this without implying that there _was_ more to him than what everyone saw. Carl is ten years out of high school and shows no awareness that he ever actually LEFT high school. He's still wearing his Miners' jacket and still replaying the last five seconds of the big game he won back in 1984. Carl is Colin the First all grown up. Carl is our cautionary tale; the man who exists to please others. If Colin hadn't been in that accident, there's a good chance he'd grow up to be much like Carl, the stereotypical jock who peaked in high school. But because of what Colin's been through, he already knows he's not what people expect him to be. Colin's ahead of the game. He knows he can reinvent himself. Carl's stuck.

Nina says, "You always said this was temporary." And it just fills up the screen. Everyone wants to believe the hard things are just temporary, but Colin knows better. Nina's starting to learn it too. Ephram and Andy still have a ways to go.

 

PCH gym:

Of course Amy is a cheerleader. Harold's saved seats for Carl between him and Andy. Time for the Fathers & Sons roll call again: Carl = Colin; Harold = Bright; Andy = Ephram. Loosely. Harold and Andy actually get along better than Ephram and Bright, but Harold's so taken by Carl, and Andy did earlier suggest Harold ask Carl out. Harold calls Carl "The Champ."

The cheerleaders run in, and a couple of them are actually quite round! Real girls, of all sizes!

Amy's distracted during the routine, constantly looking off to her left, probably looking for Colin, but the camera never tells us.

It does show us that Colin's wearing his Miners jacket and sitting in the same spot on the bleachers as he was during the teaser when the stands were empty and he was acting as timekeeper. The game starts and he gets up and walks to the door. He looks mad, turning around to glare at the gym before he leaves.

Now Amy and Bright are both looking for Colin. Bright calls Ephram down from the stands, and Ephram, simply put, has the GAYEST shirt on ever. He's also about the only person in town not wearing red and gold. He's in black and grey instead. Because Ephram is, consistently, the darkest part of any frame. The runner-up for that title is Colin.

Bright and Ephram have the following fabulous conversation:

Bright: "Where's Colin?"

Ephram: "How should I know?"

Bright: "You're like his best friend now, you don't know where he is?"

Ephram: "You're his best friend and you don't know where he is?"

Bright: "Whatever, just go find him, would ya. The homecoming thing starts in the half. It's in like 5 minutes."

Subtext: We don't know where Colin is. We don't know who he is. Which one of us does he like better? Which one of us should go look for him? How do we find him? We're running out of time.

Ephram asks why Bright can't go looking for Colin, and, honestly, I think Ephram's fighting this so much just because it's Bright asking him to do it. Bright says he can't go because he's on the team. Ephram makes the obligatory bench joke and for a moment Bright looks like he might actually understand the metaphorical relationship between basketball and life. But only for a moment.

It's significant that Bright chooses to continue warming the bench—sitting on the sidelines—while Ephram is the one that goes to find Colin. Bright may be the one to send Ephram, but Ephram is the one that actually goes because Bright doesn't want to sacrifice his place on the team, no matter how trivial it is. Bright had to choose between basketball and Colin, and he chose basketball, handing Colin over to Ephram.

Ephram finds Colin sitting in a red truck in the parking lot. I don't know whose it is. I think Bright's truck is blue, so this might be Colin's parents', but didn't that get wrecked in the accident? And if it _is_ his parents' truck, his parents are totally MIA, yet again. We didn't see them at the game, and I doubt Colin is allowed to drive anywhere by himself.

In the truck, Ephram tries to coax Colin back inside, saying his big moment is minutes away, but Colin says it's not his moment, and tells us about Bob II. Looking really pale, Colin says that Bob II "decided it would be easier on his friends and family, which were all strangers to him, to call him Bob the second. I hate it."

It's unclear what Colin hates, and I think that's intentional. He's got a lot of things to be unhappy about. He certainly hates the situation he's in, where he's two different people in one body. But here he seems to be specifically reacting to the fact that Bob renamed himself. Maybe Colin doesn't believe it's necessary. Colin just wants to be Colin, with no version number attached, and have the people around him accept that. This is what he wanted to say earlier. This is what he knew, but couldn't articulate. Colin just wants to be himself, whoever that ends up being, and he wishes everyone else could just deal with that. He's telling Ephram because Ephram is the only one who knows him now and doesn't compare him to his past self.

Ephram says they should get back inside, but Colin grows animated and tells Ephram about his memory of a trash chute in an apartment they had. Ephram says he had one in New York. So their past selves share some things in common too.

Ephram tells Colin that things will get better. This little moment is so heartbreaking, because up until this point, Ephram's been the only person who hasn't said that to Colin during this whole mess. Ephram's clearly shaken and desperate and feeling out of his league. He's starting to understand how scared Colin is.

Ephram tries to get Colin inside, but Colin's lost his list of where to stand during the ceremony. He can't play Homecoming King without that list. He's got to be wondering how important something can be if he has to write it down in order to remember it. At this point he's probably relieved he's lost the list because it means he doesn't have to perform for the entire town, but at the same time he's angry he needs the list at all.

Ephram turns on the dome light to help look for the list and notices Colin's hand is bleeding and the window's broken. More shattered glass. Ephram reaches out to touch Colin's hand, but then stops and runs off to find his father, because this is what Andy's good at, and that's got to be a huge relief to Ephram right about now.

 

This Year's Homecoming Court:

The MC announces that the Homecoming court "shares your values as a class" and I nearly gag. Bright does a very nice thing by standing in for Colin with Amy. "We're in this together," he says. Our love triangle has turned more into 2-on-2 in this episode. Bright and Amy vs. Colin and Ephram. The Then vs. the Now. Last week's first love vs. new romance.

 

In the Nurse's Station:

Andy bandages Colin's hand while Ephram looks ill, about as pale as Colin did in the truck. Colin lies about how it happened.

Andy asks, "How's it feel?" Colin says, "Fine."

Colin leaves carrying his Miners jacket. I'm interested to see if he wears it after this ep. Colin's hand is wrapped in gauze; he's resorted to injuring the parts of himself that work in punishment for those that still don't.

Andy asks Ephram how it really happened, and Ephram tells him an abbreviated version that doesn't contradict Colin's story, but doesn't exactly back it up either. Ephram returns to his previous position of: "He's not my patient, Dad."

Ephram begs off the rest of the game, saying basketball's not really his thing, but we already knew that.

 

Because this is TV:

Back in the gym, Bright gets put into the game and scores. I don't think they show us the final outcome of the game though, which is interesting, unless that _was_ the cliched last shot that wins the game and I just wasn't paying attention.

After the game, Bright plays some ball with his father in the darkened gym. They talk about missing Colin, that when Colin was gone Bright missed him, but now Colin's back and Bright still misses him. They want to make sure we didn't miss that the first six times they mentioned it.

Harold says what Colin can't quite get into words: "You know I'm not saying that you shouldn't stay close to Colin, but things have changed. You and Amy are gonna have to figure this out."

Bright more or less ignores him, but in the way where you feel like he's actually thinking over what his father said but doesn't want his father to KNOW that.

 

Okay, One Last Thing About Carl:

Because he's speaking for all of us, but mostly for Colin, when he says: "I'm gonna get home as soon as I can. You know that, don't you? And as soon as we can do it, we're gonna open that store and I'm gonna be here full time."

Nina: "I just miss you more every day that you're gone."

Apply as needed to the Colin/Everwood storyline.

 

School the next day:

Amy and Colin at their lockers. She's asking after his hand. Ephram comes around the corner to find them standing close and leaning into each other against the lockers. Ephram's walk stutters, but he shakes it off and walks over. Colin greets him enthusiastically.

The bell rings and Colin again does that fabulous thing with his big eyes when he says, "Gotta go blow something up in chem class." He leaves.

Amy expresses her concern about Colin to Ephram, who says, among other things: "He's fine. He's gonna be fine..." It's like _The X-Files_ over here with everyone being fine. Scully would fit right in. She and Ephram could hang out. She'd be fascinated with him, due to his total resemblance to a young Mulder.

 _Anyway_. Ephram says this about Homecoming: "It's tradition. People like traditions. It makes them feel safe, you know? To think that some things don't change."

It's what people want to believe about Colin, but it's the opposite of what Nina wants to believe about Carl. Everwood wants Colin to always be the same, but Nina wants Carl to change. It's about growing up. You can't let tradition inform your personal decisions. You can't be safe. Colin has to break out of the mold that Colin the First created. Nina will have to break out of her stagnant relationship with Carl. Looks like there's some breaking up to be done.

 

Surely the writers of _Everwood_ understand that everybody gets a crush on their private instructor?:

Andy is waiting on the front porch when Ephram gets home from school. Andy tells Ephram it's time to start piano lessons again.

We get the line: "That's what fathers do...I think." Like Delia suggested, Andy decides to make Ephram's choice for him. But even in the act of taking the authority position with one of his children, he's effectively only doing so because of advice from the other child. Andy just can't win.

Ephram goes inside. The piano teacher, who is So Very Gay, makes Ephram play him something and Ephram sits down moodily but starts playing (with decent faking skills, but he's not playing fast or hard enough for the music that's coming out of that piano). With his head turned toward the camera and away from the teacher, Ephram smiles, because he likes playing.

Outside, Carl's gone, but the ladder's still there. Andy talks to Nina. She goes inside to feed Sam, and the camera lingers on the ladder. There are work gloves on one of the rungs. Andy leaves his porch and walks over to Nina's. He picks up the gloves and climbs the ladder to finish what Carl started.

Irv interjects one hell of a downer: "There are no certainties where dreams are concerned. Some are achieved, but just as many sputter and die. When they do, it's tempting to wonder why you ever dreamed at all."

And Ephram's piano playing takes us to the credits.


	3. The Miracle of Everwood [1.19]

# The whole world knows your secret.

 

My first thought while watching this episode on Monday were the many scenes that felt like dream sequences. It's due to their pacing, and their other-worldly feel, and I was ready to blame the director or the editor, but the next morning, when I rewatched and actually listened to Irv this time. I realized there's a good chance those clever Everwood people did that on purpose, because this episode is about fantasy and reality. It's about writing the world you want to live in. It's about living in your own world.

This episode is a little jarring after "Colin the Second." It's been a month since "The Unveiling" and it's amazing to see the difference between Colin now and Colin right out of the hospital. Colin's return to violent behavior is especially jarring, especially because, as far as I remember, he's been remarkably well adjusted in the episodes between "Colin the Second" and now. No outbursts at all. But suddenly he's having trouble controlling his temper...it's probably not a coincidence that this is happening just as he's finished physical therapy. Colin looks normal again, but he can't ignore he's not _back_ to normal. He's going to do his best to try, though. Like Andy said, "Fake it 'til you make it."

 

The teaser is a flashback. The Abbotts' driveway: Bright and Colin playing basketball as children. Is it wrong of me to think this short little baby Bright seems _smarter_ than our teenage Bright? Probably. Baby Amy comes out to yell at Bright. She's got a stuffed Grover tucked under her arm, a reminder of why Colin used to call her Grover.

Everwood must think we're particularly dense today, since Andy will basically repeat this later, but, what the hell:

Irv: "Forget for a minute what the real world looks like. Forget what you know you know. Sometimes you need to believe in what isn't exactly there, a daydream of better nights, a storybook fantasy where life is ordered and consistent and tales get awfully exciting before they get wrapped up nicely for all involved."

Fastforward to now. Bright and Colin playing basketball in the Abbott's driveway. When Bright has his back turned, Colin slips off his sling so fast it's like he never had it on to begin with. My first impression was that this was a dream sequence. It didn't feel real. Especially with how bouncy and active Colin is. But he tells us he's done with rehab and the gimp is gone. They play basketball and it's amazing how much energy Colin has. I'd like to introduce you to Colin the First.

Amy runs out onto the front porch, calling for Bright. She stops short when she sees Colin fully functional and happy.

Irv must be totally high: "But who are we to enforce reality? After all, you never know when the good angel of fortune might bring a page from your book to life and throw a kind miracle your way."

I haven't heard a voiceover that convoluted since _The X-Files_. Looks like Chris Carter has finally found a new day job.

 

Mama Joy's Diner:

You're wondering if Harold is _always_ sitting at that counter. The answer is yes. Andy tells us a reporter from _New York magazine_ is coming to interview him, and Harold nearly chokes on his coffee. The journalist's name is Joel Horowitz and Harold is totally in love with him. Harold has a serious case of hero worship. First Carl Feeny, now this. He should really look into that. Bright's going to end up just like his father. Just like Ephram shares a lot of traits with his father. Now, where is Mr. Hart? Why don't we know more about him? Because that would give Colin a father figure and something to compare his own identity against? Why, yes.

Question, though: are Colin's parents so ineffectual because Colin needs to be unsure of who he is? Or is Colin unsure of who he is because his parents don't support him in the way he needs? One is a function of lazy writing. The other is a valid way to develop a character. It seems to me they didn't develop Colin's parents to be feeble, they just didn't develop them. The Harts definitely put their foot down on the whole Colin and Dr. Brown thing, but that's the only thing we really know about them. They do not have the same presence as the other parents on this show. The Man is trying to keep Colin down!

 

Useless scene with Andy and Edna, showcasing such words as "defibrillator" and "puff piece."

 

Time for another faux dream sequence. This one starts out with the Greek Chorus in full swing. Okay, it's the high school choir, but, seriously, there's an unbelievable amount of sunshine pouring in through the windows behind them and they're singing the _Cheers_ theme song. It's off key and terrible, but that's the point: _Making your way in the world today, takes everything you've got; taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away?_

That's just one more fantasy that's never going to come true, whatever Irv says about good angels of fortune. Because here's Amy and Ephram standing in the middle of the risers and talking instead of singing. This scene is edited strangely. The tight intercuts between Amy and Ephram seem to imply Ephram is on the right and Amy on the left, but when the camera finally pulls back, the opposite turns out to be true. It plays with my sense of direction, and who is on whose side. It'll happen at least once more in this episode, making me think that's not a coincidence either.

Amy and Ephram are standing very close, with their shoulders pressed together. Ephram is wearing a New York t-shirt under his pullover. I have the feeling that in beginning choir you actually stand with your own kind so you can hear what you're supposed to sound like, but this is a lesser problem compared to what they do to Ephram's piano later.

Amy and Ephram share a lean and a smile. Suddenly Colin walks into the room. wearemany holds up a big sign that says _Ferris Bueller's Day Off homage_. Colin's wearing a button-down shirt, which is just one more thing that's new about him. This is where things started to feel like a fantasy sequence. The logic being: Ephram and Amy were bored, so they dreamed up Colin to come in and save them. Just like earlier when Bright wanted his friend back, so he dreamed Colin whole and playful again. Except this is real.

Amy and Ephram exchange a comical look as Colin tells the teacher he needs Amy Abbott right away. Ephram seems impressed by Colin's balls for pulling Amy out of class. Colin says, all deadpan, "It's just that Miss Abbott needs to play hooky the rest of the afternoon. It's rather urgent." The teacher doesn't even react, proving that no one is really listening to Colin. Amy leaves with Colin, and Colin gives Ephram a long hard look while Amy's back is turned. If Colin was Ferris Bueller, he'd invite Ephram along because every charismatic hero needs his geeky sidekick to make him look better. But Colin just gives Ephram this stare, like _Don't you want this?_ Ephram watches them go, looking amused and annoyed.

 

Useless Delia scene. Except we learn Berlanti has teacher issues: Sam's pro-Ritalin preschool teacher; Colin and Ephram's impatient, pushy history teacher; Delia's terrible child-hating spinster. I know there are more examples I just haven't seen. wearemany holds up a sign that says, _"Anybody? Anybody? Bueller?"_

Delia looks way too old to be in this class. They're going on a field trip to see an Ancient Egypt exhibit. We want to know where this so-called museum is. They don't mention Denver, and we're skeptical Everwood could support such a thing. But don't worry about that, the writers certainly didn't.

 

Joel Horowitz shows up at the train station to interview Andy. They go outside for a walk to get the feel of the town. Andy has no idea how many people live in Everwood. This is a theme for him. Don't make me bring up _The King and I_ mess from "The Price of Fame." Andy tells Joel about the unattended fruit stand no one would even consider stealing from, and then tempts Joel with an apple that neither of them eats. It's either lazy symbolism or just laziness. You can't have an episode speak so much of miracles and then ignore an obvious fruit/knowledge metaphor like that.

Irv shows up and manages to deliver a voiceover in the middle of his dialogue. Andy says to Joel, "I give up. They're usually more quaint." It's certainly said with irony, but also an awareness that Andy doesn't fit in here. He still sounds like he's passing through. He can look at this town and use the word "quaint" and know it's got nothing to do with him.

 

PCH. It's the same day, except Colin did not play hooky because he's in gym. Bright is chosen as one of the team captains for basketball. He acts confused for a moment, looking at the bleachers full of students, then calls, "Colin Hart!" Colin explodes off the bench like this is the final four, and _the entire gym class cheers_. Welcome to fantasy land again. Except this is actually happening. The coach dresses down Colin, saying he can't play until he has a doctor's note. I find it hard to believe they hadn't already discussed this. The crowd boos. Colin spikes the basketball and storms off.

Ephram comes in late, headphones on, fabulous worn jeans. He's just in time to have Colin walk past him. Ephram nods at him and says his name, but Colin continues storming off. Ephram pulls his headphones out of his ears and looks confused. The gym teacher says, "Let him go." As if Ephram is in the habit of publicly pursuing Colin.

Ephram is late and surly. Where was he? Yeah, no one knows. Stuck in a little land called Plot Device, most likely. Ephram slinks off in his sloppy jeans, giving us a rear view that immediately sends wearemany and me to hell.

Next thing we know, Ephram is in the locker room, dressed in his gym clothes and arguing with his sock: "You're a sock. Why do you have to fight me all the way up?" He wins the fight with the stubborn sock. There's a crash off-screen and Ephram jumps up and runs toward the noise. Colin is having a disagreement with the gym teacher's office, with a baseball bat. The office is losing. Ephram watches through a window. Colin smashes the window next to the one Ephram's using. I'm so in love with their continuity of metaphor on this show. I'm not sure if Colin was aware that Ephram was standing there or not, but it's interesting that he didn't break the window Ephram was near. IMMEDIATELY the entire gym class rushes into the office, the teacher and Bright in the lead.

The gym teacher, who is wearing a wedding ring because it's important that our educators have stable home lives so they won't prey on the young, impressionable kids under their protection—I have gotten so off topic. But you'll understand in a second, because the gym teacher grabs Colin and puts him in a headlock. _But he's married so it's okay._ Colin is screaming, "Let go of me!" over and over. Ephram is at a different window than the door everyone else is standing at, like the office is a hub connecting different parts of the gym and locker room. Ephram seems to be isolated in his area. The camera watches Bright split his attention between Colin and Ephram. Ephram continues to watch Colin from behind his glass cage.

 

The Halls of Discipline. Ephram and Colin sit in chairs across from the principal's desk. This scene is suffering from the same directional displacement as the choir scene. It's hard to tell who is on what side. The scene is mostly composed of close-ups of Colin or Ephram, no wide shots showing both of them. This is, I'm sure, indicative of their shifting alliances. These kids are going to have to choose sides soon, and we don't know what's going to happen. Either that or it really _was_ amateur night on the set.

We're not sure why Ephram is there. It should be pretty clear to the teacher that Colin was the one in charge of the baseball bat. Colin wants us to believe that Ephram _told_ on him, but that's really unlikely since Ephram spends most of the scene just sitting in his chair looking sullen and not saying anything. It's possible they're calling Ephram as a witness, but there were plenty of other witnesses. Maybe it's just that Ephram was, like your local news, First On The Scene.

"Since nothing of value was damaged, I don't think it's necessary to get parents involved," the principal says, which is ridiculous. He should totally be covering the school's collective ass against lawsuits. Plus there was plenty of damage; windows aren't cheap! Ask Xander!

Ephram can't believe it either: "So that's it?" Which, you'll note, is hardly an indication he's trying to get Colin into trouble, but Colin's apparently going to remember this as The Greatest Betrayal Of All Time.

Out in a waiting room somewhere, Amy's yapping at Bright about getting Colin a doctor's note that excuses him from going wacko with a baseball bat. Don't these kids have _class_? How is Amy sitting there? Who told her what happened? Does she have Colin-radar? Her hair looks like she ran through a tornado to get to him.

Bright says Colin is like Teflon, nothing sticks to him. I'm surprised he knows what Teflon is. The writers need to decide if Bright is actually not quite as dumb as he looks.

Colin comes out of the office, says in that encoded boy-language that "It's all cool," and gives his Colin the First smile. Ephram, scooting by behind him, snaps, "It is now."

Colin's head whips around like it's on a string connected to Ephram. Amy steps in, wraps her arms around Colin's neck and hugs him, but Colin is still staring in Ephram's direction. Colin finally turns his head and hugs her back, smiling over her shoulder at Bright. Colin is so using all three of his friends and only Ephram's aware of it.

 

The Great Auto Mechanic Brown. Andy's father worked on French cars because they were the hardest. In other words: the brain surgery of the automotive world. Andy's talking to Joel at the Browns' big table. Andy says he wasn't close to his dad, and that life in Everwood may not be perfect, but it's worth it for the kids. Even then, they have their good days and their bad days.

Ephram comes slamming through the front door on cue.

Andy: "Hey, Ephram. We were just talking about you, want to come sit down?"

Ephram, still walking: "No."

Andy: "Everything okay?"

Ephram, getting progressively further away: "No."

Andy: "You want to talk about it?"

Ephram, leaving: "Totally."

This is why we love Ephram. Andy says to Joel, "Not one of our good days."

 

Upstairs, Delia has a white wicker desk set. I can't imagine _who_ bought that for her. I'd say crazy New York grandma, but wicker's too cheap for the granddaughter of a famous surgeon. Delia has her shrimpy pal Arnie over. She's wrapping him in toilet paper while plotting to sleep over at the museum, just like in E. L. Konigsburg's _From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler_. She gets permission from Andy to sleep over at Arnie's after the field trip, but when Andy tries to make the follow-up call to Arnie's mom, Delia literally waves him off. He falls for it. Once again, Andy has no clue what his kids are up to.

 

The Diner, Again. Harold's not sitting at the counter this time. Instead he's playing The Country Doctor and handing out suckers to two little kids he'd probably kick instead of kiss if the journalist wasn't standing right there. Harold and Andy maneuver for Joel's attention a little, except for the part where Andy already _has_ Joel's attention and doesn't need to compete for it.

 

Arboreal Clinic. Joel's followed Andy to a patient up a tree. Andy calls down, "Toss me up some of those antihistamines?" And despite the camera work and the wacky soundtrack, no one falls out of the tree. Some "lumberjack," I suppose, says this guy thinks he has "the soynuts to take us on," which amuses me. He also tells Joel about Colin, calling him the "coma kid": Fourth of July, there's an accident. Kid goes flying through the windshield, gets laid up in a coma for four months. Dr. Brown works on him, now the kid's back to life like he did nothing more than skip breakfast.

Joel asks, "What was that kid's name again?"

Smash cut to:

"Colin!"

Bright comes out of the high school and passes a basketball to Colin. They're both wearing their Miners jackets. They talk about the whole gym freak out. Bright's loyally convinced that Colin had trashed the teacher's office for revenge and just played the coma card in order to get out of trouble. Colin blinks, pauses, and then agrees with Bright, obviously disappointed that Bright doesn't really see him. They nod and smile at each other in that just-nod-and-smile way. Ephram passes through the foreground, head averted and walking fast. Colin catches sight of him, which is amazing because on first view I wasn't entirely sure it was Ephram because of how quickly he skittered past. He's totally trying to get to his bike without Colin noticing him. Too late. Colin tells Bright he'll catch up with him in a sec, then he goes over to Ephram, who's wearing a fabulously sexy black peacoat over a confusingly ugly light blue t-shirt.

Colin asks Ephram if he wants to shoot some hoops...knowing he'd decline? Hard to tell. Ephram says he's on dinner duty. _Where_ is Andy that Ephram has to take care of dinner? I imagine it's hard to pick up take-out on a bicycle. Ephram might be a dork, but I don't think his bike has a basket on it. Tangent alert! Back to the show.

Colin starts in on the day before, asking why Ephram tried to sell him out. Ephram's unchaining his bike during this whole conversation, never focusing on Colin for very long. He's totally trying to get out of there as fast as possible.

Colin's doing that thing where you restart an argument because you know you're right and you didn't get a satisfactory conclusion to it the first time.

Colin's attempting to:

a) establish a connection to talk things over  
b) start a fight  
c) get some help  
d) make up

This is what's known as a "multiple guess" question, because I don't have the answers for you, but at the moment I'm tending towards e) all of the above.

Ephram denies trying to get Colin in trouble and says it was just messed up. Colin casually says it's no big deal, but Ephram isn't buying it. He did the math and figured out Colin's the one going around smashing things, including the trophy case: "I figured it out, all right? I'm not stupid."

"Listen, man. I'm fine," Colin says, sounding like he's genuinely trying to convince Ephram. "You know, I lost a lot, but I can make new memories, man. I'm doing good again."

"Yeah, you're doing good," and Ephram sounds like he really means that. "But that guy in there with the bat? Wasn't you."

"All right, so I lost it, but I got it under control." Colin sounds like a man dealing with an addiction. He doesn't even seem to notice he's directly contradicting himself. _I have my loss of control under control._

This gets a stony look from Ephram.

"Fine," Colin says, tilting his head like an ingenue and faking a little flirty embarrassment. "You keep me in line. You can help me." As if Ephram had been offering that and Colin is doing him a favor by letting him hang around.

Ephram interprets it differently: "Help you cover?"

Colin gets angry because Ephram isn't falling for his act. "Would you get over this? You know, the rest of the world already has."

"Maybe if I knew you when you were still the golden boy, I could ignore it, too, but right now, you scare me," Ephram says, holding up a hand.

Colin's face falls, just a little, and he's so dark and angry and hurt. He nods. "'Kay, if that's the way you want it."

"That's not much of a choice," Ephram says oddly, pulling his bike out and walking away. Colin chases him and grabs the back of his coat. You can tell by the look on Ephram's face that he expected that.

Colin sets in on Ephram's involvement with Amy, accusing him of using this to break up Colin and Amy. But not so that Ephram can get to Amy. No. Colin says, "Some pathetic last-ditch effort to get me off Amy." Woo! Wrong leg! Wrong leg! Colin is navigating the love triangle in the wrong direction. He's not good at triangles, apparently, because he just accused Ephram of trying to break up Amy and Colin so that COLIN would be free. Not that I'm complaining. At all. (I'm also ignoring the implication that Colin believes the only way Amy and he could break up is if it was his idea, because that's not sexy.)

That approach apparently not working, Colin changes tacks and zags to Laynie, using his own sister's desertion as a character flaw of Ephram's: "No wonder my sister took off and left you alone." Which sounds misplaced and overly dramatic until you realize Colin's talking about himself here and probably has been for a while. _He's_ the one concerned that Amy has an impression of him being spoon fed applesauce, and he can't handle that lack of control over his own image.

Here's where things get weird. Ephram says, "You believe whatever you want. The rest of the world already does." He breaks Colin's hold on him, his eyes big and wet. Colin's face crumples and Ephram bikes away.

Colin calls after him, "Hey, come on, wait, don't. Ephram!" Colin's succeeded in pushing Ephram away, which clearly wasn't what he wanted. I'm still not sure what he _did_ want there.

This is the corollary of this same scene in "Vegetative State," where Colin is pleading for Ephram's friendship and Ephram rejects him and bikes away. Both scenes were highly public.

Colin's the one screaming now: "Dude, it's not what you think! You watch! I'm not like that! I'm not like that!" He throws his backpack down and watches Ephram ride away.

This scene destroyed me. wearemany and I watched it about six times between the two of us, and we still couldn't make sense of Ephram's bizarre comeback to Colin's accusations. This sounds like a fight Colin and Ephram have already had, because Ephram's dialogue sounds like stock footage: "You believe whatever you want." There's a certain time and place you use that line when you're in a fight. You say it when someone has stated their clearly wrong position for the thirtieth time and then you leave, just like Ephram did.

The problem is—the thing Ephram is saying this in response to doesn't track. It _appears_ to be about Laynie leaving, but that doesn't make any sense. Back up a step and we get Amy. Which _would_ make sense if Ephram hadn't also said, "The rest of the world already does." This isn't about girls—this is about the way the world sees Ephram and Colin and how they're prepared to deal with those expectations. Colin is faking. Ephram is withdrawing. Still, it sounds like they've had this conversation before. We're missing an entire story arc here—the six eps where Colin realizes he has a crush on Ephram, and maybe they kiss a few times, but then Colin realizes this will jeopardize his golden boy standing, and he's already in danger of losing that because he's sick, so he tells Ephram he's just confused and they can't do this anymore, but they can still be friends, and then Colin takes up his Miners jacket and returns to being Colin the First because he needs all the smokescreen he can get. And THAT'S what that whole fight in front of the school was about—being gay and repressing/denying/sublimating it:

"That wasn't you."  
"I'm not like that."

That's _my_ fairy tale, Irv. Is the good gay fairy going to take a page from my book? I doubt it.

More likely, "rest of the world" is just a repeat of Colin's own statement that the rest of the world is already over his time as coma boy. A deeply flawed statement, since most of Everwood is still casually referring to him by that nickname.

 

The Next Day. Ephram's at a piano, probably in the empty band or choir room. He's playing Liszt's "Etude No. 3 in G-sharp Minor," making the same mistakes over and over. Amy comes in the room and _Everwood_ manages to seriously annoy me by suddenly muting the piano Ephram's playing down to a level where it's about as loud as a stereo in the next room. Bleh.

Ephram says, "The only reason Liszt wrote it was because he knew nobody else would be able to play it. I try to prove him wrong when I need to get out of my head."

It's official. Colin has driven Ephram to Liszt.

Amy knows Ephram has a recital coming up. She must have been watching the previews because I don't remember him telling me that, but it has been a month since we had a new ep so it's possible I've forgotten.

Amy leans on the piano like she's Lucy to Ephram's Schroder. "Colin said you tried to get him busted. That you told the principal on him. Did you?"

Ephram doesn't want to talk about Colin, but Amy insists. He looks resigned. "Let me guess. Colin told you that I might try to tell you he was still sick so that you'd doubt him. Am I right?"

Amy gives the smallest of nods, like she's afraid this'll get back to Colin.

"Everyone thinks I'm a lot dumber than I am, Amy. Why is that, do I dress dumb?" he asks, getting up from the piano bench. Everyone? Amy and Colin. Everyone.

Amy says this is Ephram's fault for telling her not to give up on Colin, for saying that she couldn't if she tried. She says, "I promised Colin that I'd stay on his side no matter what, and I will." This is the first time that taking sides has been mentioned explicitly this ep. The camera work I mentioned was operating on an implied level, but now that Amy's brought it up, Colin will mention it and then Amy will again. Funny that the only two people talking about taking sides are the only two people ON that side.

Amy does some sketchy math, saying that 95% of Colin is back to the way he was before the accident, yet everyone wants to concentrate on the 5% that's still broken. Everyone? Harold, Andy, and Ephram. Everyone.

"Colin's been through hell to get where he is. Believe me, whatever it is that's wrong now, he can handle it," Amy says.

But Ephram doesn't believe her fairy tale. He knows the truth. "No, he can't," he says, and his voice breaks. Poor baby.

"Well, then I can," Amy says. Ephram: "Good luck with that."

 

Delia gives her lousy teacher the slip and hides in the museum bathroom. Yes, that's really all that happens.

 

At the Abbotts', Harold is making Bright read him prepared interview questions.

Bright, confused: "How do you feel about...homos?"

Harold: "That's HMOs, Bright, pay attention. Context!"

See, I like Bright like this. Why can't we have more of him like this? Harold explains that he has to be ready if Joel asks him a question. Bright so clearly would rather be doing anything else but this. The phone rings and it's Joel, asking to speak with Amy.

We immediately switch to the diner, where Amy and Colin sit on one side of a small booth and Joel sits on the other. Between Amy and Colin is a soda glass with two straws. I wonder how many other Rockwellian things like that got put in this episode.

Colin's saying, "The recovery sucked. I don't know how else to say it." His hands are folded on top of the table, and he sounds nothing so much as a guest on Oprah, coached, staged, overly calm, and very robotic. He's faking, and the fixed nature of the scene (centered around a table) upholds its one-act play, _My Dinner with Andre feel._

Joel: "How did you make it?"

Colin: "I did what I had to do."

Colin says Amy helped him remember who he was, and dealt with the changes. Joel asks Amy if Colin is different, and Amy says, yes, in the little ways. He chews his fingernails, and kisses different, slower. This is where my impartial observer status (what little of it I had left) slips and I squeal, "It's because he's been kissing Ephram!"

_Ahem._

Amy says, "Love made more sense than science," as she stares Joel down. This makes me think of my pet plot where Colin turns out to be gay and there's a lot of talk about brain chemistry. But it's possible I'm just a huge nerd. Moving on.

 

Later That Same Day. Ephram slams into the house just like he did in the last scene he came home. Joel isn't there this time, but Andy's sitting at the table again. Andy tells him that before he slams upstairs, he might like to know the comic book store called and that _Ghost in the Shell 2_ was in and they'd reserved ten copies for Ephram.

Andy wants to know why Ephram needs ten copies. He says, "You finally find out if Motoko and the Puppet Master are still sharing her cyborg body."

Someone really knows their manga. GitS2 was released in the US in December '02. Not to mention all the parallels it has with Colin's situation—this is a world where you can have a digitally preserved identity and live as a cyborg. The Puppet Master is a hacker who can hack into your brain and make you believe any lie he wants. Colin's living in a body that's not his own and he's sharing a brain with someone he doesn't recognize or understand. He's got these violent impulses that must feel like they're coming from outside himself. He's been ghost-hacked by the Puppet Master. Enough of that.

Ephram lingers in the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his jeans. Andy says, "You know you're doing that lingering thing that I do, which you hate. Something wrong?"

And Ephram just gives in to the need to talk to his father and ask for help. "There's something wrong with Colin. I don't, I don't know. He's been having these weird episodes."

It's telling that Ephram is actively seeking out his father's help, where Amy's too scared of losing Colin as a boyfriend to worry about him as a person. In "The Unveiling," when Amy's father acted on the information she'd given him about Colin's nausea, Amy handled it badly because she was more concerned about Colin's anger than his health. This time she's keeping all her concerns to herself, but Ephram's still trying to think of ways to help Colin.

Ephram describes Colin's behavior as "hulking out," saying "I don't know how else to describe it."

Andy asks if Colin gets violent and Ephram says no. "He didn't hurt anybody, but he could have. What the hell's wrong with him?"

Ephram's upset and confused and he wants to help, but he's getting the feeling he can't. Which is why he's been trying to avoid Colin. Not that he's succeeding. Colin's too determined; there's no way he's going to let Ephram escape him. Ephram asks Andy to say something to Colin's parents, but Andy says they want nothing to do with him: "They don't want to hear about it."

"Everybody else already knows. A teacher saw him freak out and I watched him sweep it under the rug. Nobody wants to see him as anything but a miracle. How can you and I be the only ones willing to say anything?"

Here's the "everybody already knows" thing popping up again. I'm not sure what it _is_ that everybody knows, though. That Colin isn't well? I'm not sure everybody DOES know that. I think they're actually quite happy with their miracle and don't want to look any further. Which is how Colin's getting away with his performance.

Andy says, "I don't know. Maybe it's like your comics. Sometimes you just need to tune out and be in a world that does what you want it to. Some people can't put the book down."

Word, Andy. It's called fanfic.

We flash to Delia in the museum, and this subplot would really make more sense if they somehow tied Delia's inability to grasp that reality is different than fiction to her missing her mother, or, really, just any kind of motivation at all besides being locked in a museum with mummies being cool...oh, damn. Did they pun that on purpose? No. That's just me. I baited that trap myself. Still, they really should have spent about three more minutes developing why Delia suddenly needed to act out a book she read for class. They get a C.

 

Everwood Food Place. Ephram's there to pick up something in a brown paper bag. Colin and Bright are playing pinball in the background, both of them wearing their Miners jackets. Ephram does that ducked head, slouching scuttle meant to make you invisible to ex-boyfriends and bullies. It doesn't work.

Colin, with his ESP (allow me to: _Ephram Sensory Perception_ ), turns around immediately.

"Well, look who decided to show up," he says, walking over to Ephram and making no sense at all. Did he invite Ephram in some secret scene we did not see? These two keep having these conversations that we're not seeing.

"You keepin' an eye on me?" Colin asks. This is clearly what Colin wants, so maybe if we just _inverse_ the delivery of everything he says, maybe then he'll start to make emotional sense. For example, this would normally come out, "Why aren't you keeping an eye on me?" with the sad blinky eyes, but because Colin has to act tough, we got him all swagger and assault instead.

"Making sure I stay out of trouble, officer?" Colin says, slamming his coke down on the counter, and in any other town that would so be a plastic cup of beer. The coke sprays up on Ephram's beautiful black peacoat, but he doesn't even flinch.

Colin: "I'm sorry. Did I slam that too hard, because that wouldn't be me." If we translate that using our Super Secret Colin Decoder Ring, we get: "I'm sorry I'm acting this way, I don't know what's wrong with me." This theory might float yet.

Ephram takes his square paper bag and walks off without saying anything. Colin looks momentarily disappointed, like a kid who knows if he smashes his toy it'll be broken, but he still can't resist pushing it down the stairs to watch it fall. Colin leans on the counter a second, then goes after Ephram, clapping Bright on the back to get his attention away from the pinball machine.

This is the other side of Colin's need for Ephram. At first Colin was needy and earnest, but at some point he decided Colin the First was neither of those things, so he's reverted to type. He's gone back to his popular jock inclinations, and he can now only interact with Ephram, a geek, in the approved bullying capacity. Ephram figured this out a few days ago, which is why he's ignoring Colin and trying not to antagonize him or draw his attention. If Colin stopped harassing Ephram, Colin wouldn't have to worry about Ephram turning him in, and I think Colin knows that. I think he's harassing Ephram because he knows Ephram's the one that's going to be able to help him, if only by getting Andy involved.

Ephram is walking down the sidewalk, but Colin stops him.

Colin: "You and I need to talk."

Ephram: "You got something to say to me?"

Colin: "I might."

Ephram: "Go for it."

Colin: "You decide to keep your mouth shut yet?"

Ephram _so_ doesn't want to talk about this. _Colin's_ the one who can't keep his mouth shut and keeps bring it up. Employing our Super Secret Colin Decoder Ring, we translate this line into: "Have you gotten someone to help me yet?"

Ephram just explodes: "I don't have to. You're no secret. You're only getting by because Dumbo here, and the whole world, has decided to kiss your ass."

Colin: "I'm getting by because there's nothing wrong with me."

"Oh, and you're a good judge of that," Ephram says. "I bet you thought it would stop with the puking. It didn't, and you got a lot worse up ahead. Probably why Laynie left, she didn't want to watch. But good job keeping everyone else in line. What'd you do to make Amy stay? Threaten to break up with her?"

He's yelling now, and it's strange to hear Ephram accuse Colin of threatening to break up with Amy, because Ephram knows Amy is Colin's one serious tie to Colin the First and Colin would never give up Amy because of that. If we ignore the girls again, like the _first_ time Colin and Ephram had this conversation outside the school, then this becomes about them and their relationship. Because it almost sounds like Ephram isn't talking about Amy. It sounds like Ephram's talking about him and Colin, asking if Colin threatened to break up with Amy for not going along with his charade, just like Colin broke up with Ephram for not playing along. Ephram seems to be saying, "Are you going to break up with her like you broke up with me?" And if we're not taking the "breaking up" in a romantic sense, Ephram could be saying _exactly_ that, because Colin did break up with him when Ephram refused to indulge Colin's need to fake being okay.

Ephram's remark about Amy is the thing that makes Colin snap. He jumps Ephram and knocks him to the ground. Bright tells him to take it easy, but Colin says they're fine, they're just talking. Colin pins Ephram up against the hood of a parked truck and goes straight for Ephram's arm, twisting it up behind him and crushing his fingers. Colin went directly for Ephram's vulnerable spot. Colin wants Ephram to be as scared as he is. Colin had his life taken away from him, and he wants Ephram to understand how terrifying that is, to have the thing you're good at taken away.

Bright calls Colin off, and Colin shifts his attention to Bright: "What the hell, Bright? What, are you defending him? Are you on his side now?"

Bright makes the mistake of using the word "crazy" and Colin screams at him, "Crazy? Is that what you think? That I'm sick? Is that what you think?"

Bright, once again making a mockery of his name, says, "I'm starting to."

Colin punches Bright in the face three solid times, knocking him down. Bright takes it without fighting back, though he easily could have stopped Colin or at least landed a few punches himself. Bright takes the abuse because he can, and because he probably can't bring himself to hit his best friend.

Bright looks up from the ground, face bruised, lips bloody, eyes hurt, and looking annoyingly like a victim. Ephram is by the truck, panting and cradling his arm. Colin backs up a few steps, looks between Bright and Colin and finally realizes what he's done. He rolls his head a little, eyes shiny and wet, then takes off.

 

Meanwhile in the Browns' entryway, Andy and Joel have a conversation about Colin. Andy can't find his keys. Joel says that six months ago Colin was a paperweight and Andy brought him back to life. Andy holds up a toothbrush so that Joel can say, "Your life is a toothbrush." Andy has to deliver Delia's toothbrush to her. He leaves Joel standing in his house. With no one home. I still can't believe that Andy's been in Everwood long enough to leave his doors unlocked or let strangers hang out while he's not there. The man lived in New York for a long time, you don't outgrow locking your doors that quickly. At Arnie's, Andy discovers he's been lied to. The scene ends. Supposedly a rescue mission is launched. Hell if we know. Not that I actually care.

 

Meanwhile in the Abbotts' entryway, Bright comes home with a towel full of ice pressed to his face and two black eyes. Does this mean Bright went home with Ephram first? Did they go back into the Food Place and talk while the waitress brought Bright ice? Yeah, we'll never know.

Amy asks what happened.

"Nothing," Bright says, and then thinks about it and spits out, "Colin," challengingly. Amy immediately assumes Bright said something inappropriate, and he did, the truth. Something Colin's not a big fan of lately.

Amy's sure it's Bright's fault, but Bright says, "You've seen him, you know. He is not the person we grew up with. If he was, I wouldn't still miss him." Poor stupid, heartbroken Bright. He's crossed over to the Other Side with the Browns, but first Amy acts as an enabler to Colin's domestic abuse and begs Bright to say he got hurt in a game.

 

Andy tucks Delia in after rescuing her from the mummies. He's unhappy she lied to him and wants to know what she was thinking.

Delia: "I thought it'd be like in the story."

Andy: "Stories aren't like life."

Delia: "I wish they were."

Andy: "Me too."

The Browns' kitchen. There's some dissension about what day this is, but it's probably the same evening. Joel is STILL in the Browns' house, which means if this IS the same evening, he was there when Ephram stumbled home with his sore arm and Andy stumbled home with his truant daughter. We're totally robbed of the scene where Ephram tells Andy how Colin flipped out and nearly broke his arm. Ephram wanders through, wearing a Brooklyn t-shirt, asks if Joel is going to make his dad look good, then grabs something out of the fridge and leaves.

Andy and Joel drink beer and talk about Colin because the world revolves around him.

Andy: "A responsible journalist might want to make certain before calling him a miracle."

Joel: "I've gotta write something. These days, you're not much of a story without him."

They have a conversation about Norman Rockwell, patron saint of our idealized fairy tale theme. Joel says, not being a responsible journalist at all, "It didn't matter if that world was ever real. He _made_ it real. That's my job. Your job is to pose for the picture."

It's harsh, but we have to remember there's nothing forcing Andy to go through with this. He doesn't _have_ to pose for that picture. The content of the article might be out of his hands, but, then again, he knows the editor. It's possible Andy could do something to prevent it from going to print.

 

PCH. Bright, wearing his Miners jacket and carrying a basketball, is leaving the school. He walks right past Amy and Colin who are sitting together on a stone bench. Colin's wearing a black jacket.

"How long is he going to be like that?" Colin asks of Bright. Totally without irony. It's here that I wonder if Bright told Amy about Ephram's part in their little scuffle the other night. Amy can accuse Bright of being inappropriate, but she probably knows Ephram has a little more tact than that. And it's one thing to have Colin punch Bright a few times. But to attack both his best friends in one night? His best friends who are total opposites? That's a whole NEW level of out-of-control. If Amy _does_ know about Ephram, and she's still sitting there next to Colin, then she's in more trouble than we thought. Colin is so manipulative in this scene. He's starting to remind me of Lex Luthor circa _Smallville_ in some very unpleasant ways.

Colin says to Amy, "There is nothing more important to me than us." It's because Amy upholds the idea of him as he believes he should be. And she has to be a tiny bit aware of that. But she kisses him like a good girlfriend and doesn't seem the slightest bit creeped out by Colin's intensity. They're stuck together like in the diner. Here they're not hemmed in by the table, but they still can't move forward. Colin's got them trapped in their positions.

 

Here comes the Rockwellian montage of the good people of Everwood reading the _New York_ magazine article about Colin and Andy. Harold's proud that Amy was quoted, even if he wasn't. wearemany points out the connection of Harold practicing his soundbites and Amy already having them mastered.

There's a picture of Colin in his basketball uniform. He was #5, exactly half of Bright's #10. That should _so_ be the other way around. Bright's sitting on a stone bench outside the school, alone, and reading.

Ephram's at home on the couch, reading aloud to Andy, who is Significantly Reading the _Everwood Pinecone_.

"'Colin Hart's miraculous _full_ recovery continues to stun those who knew and missed him. Rescued by the graced hands of Andrew Brown, whose traveling show of wonders promises to return him to New York an even larger legend than when he left.'"

"It's everything you told him not to say," Ephram protests.

"I know," Andy says.

"But it's a complete lie. Everyone's gonna believe it now. How could he write that?" Ephram asks.

Andy simply gives him a long Significant Look over the top of the _Pinecone_ then goes back the paper.

Andy's supposed to come off as resigned here, but what he is is irresponsible. He's answering all of Ephram's questions with one-word answers and basically telling him that Andy couldn't do a thing about the article, which isn't true. It is true that people will believe whatever they want, and in that way things are out of Andy's hands, but if that article hadn't been printed, then maybe there'd be more hope for Colin. Instead, everyone's going to see him as a miracle instead of a boy. They'll be even more unwilling to see how damaged he still is, because they think they know how the story ends.

Irv feels like he needs to wrap things up for us: "Right or wrong, it's always easier to believe in what isn't there. Rockwell himself put it pretty well. He said, 'The view of life I communicate in my pictures excludes the sordid and the ugly.' He said, 'I paint life as I would like it to be.'"

We end on Andy and Ephram, sitting together and reading.


	4. Moonlight Sonata [1.20]

# The Truth Ain't Out There, Irv. We Already Looked.

 

Dear _Everwood_ ,

Where is Colin? Why are there aliens in my soup? Why is Ephram yelling at his gay piano teacher? Why don't I understand a single thing that just happened?

Resentfully Yours,  
Punk

 

I'm warning you all right now. I spent a good seven years of my life caring about _The X-Files_. I still care, but not enough to waste my time dealing with this alien nonsense _Everwood_ threw at us in this ep. And as much as it hurts me to say it, Amy is almost too _young_ to have watched _The X-Files_. She's probably been watching the reruns on TNT.

Similarly, the MEOW (medical emergency of the week) is only getting a brief moment of my time as well: A woman unknowingly assaults her husband in his sleep because of her repressed hostility stemming from the fact he's moving to Alaska and she doesn't want him to go. The lesson is that we should talk out our problems instead of letting them bubble into a violent, yet savory, stew of repression and fear. Colin might want to look into that. Except I have a feeling Mike Erwin's out looking for a new day job, so Colin's totally missing out on that particular subplot.

Six more caveats.

  * Ephram's piano teacher is so gay. This will be reflected in my decision to occasionally call him Big Gay Matt.  

  * This episode had no strong reoccurring themes. Aliens are not a theme.  

  * There are so many problems with this hour of TV, but mostly it made no sense. Nothing. No sense. All I could puzzle out was that it was very gay. But that's not a theme either, sadly.  

  * wearemany agrees with me.  




On with the show. The WB promo tries its hardest to convince us that Ephram is interested in girls, showing us a montage of Ephram with the red-headed girl and Amy and smarming, "A profound connection inspires a change of heart."

Um? The only change of heart that happened in this episode was that Ephram broke up with his piano teacher.

Speaking of voiceovers that make no sense:

Irv: "Throughout the centuries, mankind has been fascinated by the nighttime sky. Ancient peoples believed that the heavens were ruled by a pantheon of gods, while others thought that the stars were diamonds dangling just out of reach."

Night. Country road. Headlights. The kind of camera work that implies an upcoming car crash. If this were _The X-Files_ or _Smallville_ , there'd definitely be some sort of mutant or freak lying in wait. Sadly, this is _Everwood_ , and they're insulting everyone's intelligence this week.

Edna's driving Amy to see Colin. Both of them are bitching about Harold. Amy calls him puffy, which is funny, but just doesn't feel like the right word for him. Uptight, definitely. Conceited, of course. Vainglorious? Without a doubt. Puffy? Not so much. It's hard to call a guy in an argyle sweatervest puffy. _It's very easy to call him gay, however._

Edna says that the trick about Harold is not to let him get to you. "Remember," she says, "it's all about power." Whatever that's supposed to mean. Edna must really hate her son if she's giving his daughter advice about working around him. Amy invites Edna to dinner for the next day, trying to create a buffer between her and her father.

Edna's cell phone rings. Why don't I believe she'd have a cell phone? Edna is the walking definition of the kind of woman who'd say "newfangled." She already says "hornswoggled" this ep. Not to mention "malarkey."

The call's for Amy. It's Colin. Amy says she gave him the number just in case he needed to reach her. "I hope that's all right," she says, innocently. Now Amy's the one taking advantage of people. She's just doing it in a way that's less arrogant than Colin's manipulation.

Amy laughs into the phone, "Oh, I miss you too." Edna swerves off the road like a maniac. Amy is sitting in the _middle_ of the bench seat of Edna's Ford. This is so that the camera can get both of them in one shot, because no one voluntarily sits in that middle seat.

We get some spooky alien music. Amy and Edna get out of the truck. Lights in the sky. Whatever.

Irv: "With all the advances in technology of late, modern science offers more opportunities than ever before to help unravel the mysteries of the night sky..."

Edna turns to talk to Amy, but finds she's returned to the truck to talk to Colin. Amy's saying, "Some weird star thing."

Irv: "...And yet, it seems the closer we get to the stars, the less we actually understand them."

Sure, Irv, whatever you say.

 

Frying pan. Something that looks like a pancake but which is actually a very sad omelet. Andy pushes it onto Delia's plate. Delia struggles to cut it with her fork. wearemany suggests Delia might be happier if she had a knife to cut that thing with. Delia finally hacks off a piece and pronounces it, "Good?" Andy's pleased.

Ephram comes in, looking at a spiral notebook. His black shirt has a hood, and either flames or dragons on the elbow. I'm in love with that elbow. Andy asks him if he wants one of his soon-to-be-famous omelets. Delia promises they're safe.

Andy asks if a dark blue suit would be appropriate for the recital, which is somehow in Everwood—because clearly a town of its size can support a piano recital. This is so ridiculous. Andy's beaming.

Delia asks Ephram if he gets to do the finale, says to Andy, "He always gets to do the finale. It means he's the best." Ephram's little sister knows more about his recitals than his own dad. Ephram seems disappointed and uncomfortable as he tells her that the finale was a bigger deal in New York. In Everwood he'll be playing for guys named Billy Jack who think an arpeggio is a form of pasta. That cleared up, Ephram turns on Andy, asking who he's invited to the recital and thus kicking off the waffliest plot line ever.

"Don't you trust me?" Andy's alarmed but trying to hide it. He has no idea how bad things are going to get.

The corner of Ephram's mouth smirks just a little. "No."

Andy stumbles to name everyone in Everwood he's on speaking terms with, throwing in a "Harry" at the last moment. I can buy that invitations were the sort of thing Ephram's mom took care of, but Ephram's a big boy, he couldn't do this himself? Especially with what he knows of Andy? But no, Ephram's asking for trouble by testing Andy to see if he can do this.

Ephram's not so sure about Harry. He doesn't seem at all aware that Andy's made this guy up. Andy says that Harry doesn't have to come but that he'll be really disappointed if he can't.

Ephram says that Harry can come, but no one else. He doesn't want a big cheering section, and if he sees one videocamera, he's walking out. He hitches his backpack up on his arm, glances goodbye at Delia and leaves, telling Andy he's "in charge of cups."

Andy says, "Roger that," proving he's spending too much time with Edna. Ephram gone, Andy repeats "cups" because possibly it's as big a mystery to him as it is to me. Ephram's so sphinxy with his riddles this ep. Delia supports Andy with an "I got your back."

 

Train station. Lumberjack Chuck and his wife, Betsy. And because they don't want us to miss the subtle nuances of the MEOW, the lumberjack is the size of a small bear and his wife is tiny enough to fit under his armpit. Small people can cause great pain. To totally sound like a fortune cookie.

Chuck's got bruises. Because we read too many books as children, wearemany and I immediately diagnose him with leukemia, which is strangely one of the few explanations Andy doesn't offer. Maybe he's finally learning how to be sensitive to his patient's emotional needs.

Andy says that Chuck's the first real-life lumberjack he knows, except for Paul Bunyan and the paper towel guy. Andy needs a reality check.

 

Mashed potatoes. Abbott's dinner table. Irv wants Edna to describe the lights. Rose comes in with a gravy boat, telling us how Brenda Baxworth spent two hours on the phone with NASA as if we care.

I'm bored. So is Bright: "There's only one explanation for this...aliens."

The camera swings around and we see he's sculpting a Richard Dreyfuss _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_ mashed potato butte in the middle of his plate.

Harold: "Bright."

Bright: "Oh, whatever, yeah, don't believe me. When the little green men come a knockin' who do you think they're gonna invite to board the mothership?"

Amy mutters, "We should be so lucky."

Bright so has his alien lore mixed up. Invite? Secondly, why does he think _he's_ what aliens are looking for?

Irv asks why they have to figure it out at all, some things can't be explained. I'd like Irv to explain why this show batters me with voiceovers and then, as if that weren't enough, regurgitates them within the show itself.

Harold for once gains my approval by attempting to shut everybody up by grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and declaring the lights the Aurora Borealis, which is the obvious answer. Harold has a paper napkin tucked into his collar. I'm noting that he does that a LOT when he eats. It's a strangely uncouth habit for a man who prides himself on his sophistication.

Amy smacks Harold down. "You're wrong," she says, sighing in such a way that makes _me_ want to smack her. She launches into a extremely simplified explanation about the source of the Aurora Borealis, all but breaking out the laser pointer and map of the cosmos. She insists that the lights couldn't possibly have been the Aurora, but she's so going to fail astronomy. They're trying to make her seem smart, but all they're accomplishing is making me hostile. Because _Amy's_ wrong. The Northern Lights _can_ be seen as far south as Colorado. It doesn't happen often, but it happens.

"How do you know all that stuff, Miss Honor Science?" Bright asks, still sculpting his potatoes and totally ignorant of the fact he's answered his own question and giving Amy a free shot.

"God had to do something with the other half of your brain," Amy says.

Amy invites Edna to play X-Files with her and gather evidence on the internet. I hold to my point that Amy's way too young to have watched TXF if she "played" X-Files with Edna, probably while Edna was babysitting her. Because how would you play X-Files? _Here, I'll harvest your ova. You drill a hole in my head._

Harold reminds Amy that she's grounded from blowing curfew last night. If Edna drove her to Colin's, how did Amy get home? And late besides? The **Magic Everwood 8-Ball** says, _Answer unclear. Don't worry about it._

Amy maneuvers Harold into apparently letting her use the internet? I'm guessing that's what this is about, considering what happens later with the instant messaging. If she does need permission, this just shows how manipulative she's getting, harnessing the power of the dinner conversation to get permission to get online the next day. She's really thinking ahead. Either that or six different people were writing this script independently of each other.

Bright's still stuck on the aliens: "Do you think if aliens would probe you, you'd still be considered a virgin?" Also? This implies Bright's a virgin, which I seriously doubt.

Harold chews resignedly.

 

Piano. Concert hall. Here's where things continue not to make any sense. In "Colin the Second," Andy tells us that Matt the gay piano teacher lives halfway between Denver and Everwood, and based on a phone conversation with Ephram's old teacher and the few extra bucks Andy threw in, Matt agreed to drive to Everwood once a week. That was about two months ago, okay? Matt probably lives, last we heard, about an hour and a half away from Everwood.

Andy basically made it worth Matt's time to drive all that way for Ephram. But there are about TEN other kids on this stage. Is Matt teaching them all? WTF? **Magic Everwood 8-Ball** says, _It is certainly a plot device._

A fat kid is plinking at the piano in order to establish himself as a loser. This kid is worth Matt's precious time? Ephram's standing near him, hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching with a sick fascination, like it's an extremely slow car crash. The redhead from all the promos is standing behind Ephram, looking hostile and extremely bored.

Either Ephram doesn't have enough sense not to wear the same shirt two days in a row, or, this is the same night. Ephram's still got his fiery elbow-dragon shirt on.

Matt walks on stage. The recital is in two days. They're all going to rehearse in pairs. Matt comes over to Ephram, stands extremely, gaily, close as he pairs Ephram up with Kate, the redhead with the big fat braid. Matt's got his hand out, and maybe he's just pointing, but he's standing so close it looks like he's got his hand on Ephram's chest. Hell, maybe he does. He's just that gay.

In a nice bit of continuity, things continue not to make any sense. Ephram makes nervous stuttering small talk with Kate. He asks how long she's been with Matt. See how sexy private teachers are? It already sounds like an affair. Kate says a couple years. Yet she lives in Everwood? Hello? Remember me? The _audience_? Feh. Ephram says he's only had Matt for a few months.

Kate sits down to play first because she's already got her piece memorized. Ephram doesn't, which I don't buy at all. Matt said they need to have their piece memorized by Friday, in two days. Just last week Ephram was practicing at school without sheet music. He told Amy that his recital piece was easy; it was the Liszt he was playing then that was impossible. But he was doing that without sheet music too. They're really dumbing Ephram down this episode. Poor Ephram, victim of bad writing.

Kate's supposedly kicking ass at her very complicated piece. We can tell because Ephram's staring at her hands, totally stunned.

 

Paper bags. Plastic cups. Andy comes home with two bags full of the unexplained cups. It's the next morning? Delia's at the kitchen island again, doing homework.

Andy says, "Well, since you said you couldn't remember what kind of cups Mom got..." Which is so sad and stupid at the same time. I'm _guessing_ these cups are for the performers backstage, or for the audience after the recital? Hell if I know. I bet Andy sure doesn't. Andy dumps out about a thousand plastic cups. How do you spell overcompensation? 16-ounce Solo.

Delia tells him he might need to take some back.

"Either that or throw a kegger," Ephram says, coming into the kitchen and opening a bag of cups that seem to have fuzzy 80s pastels on them. Ephram asks what all the cups are for. Andy says they're for Ephram's guests.

"What guests," Ephram asks, playing dumb.

Andy says, "Well, four people RSVP'd. I hand-delivered the invites myself."

Ephram looks at Andy like he's never seen him before, takes his cup over to the fridge. "Good, then you can take them back, right?"

Andy: "What, the cups?"

Ephram: "No, the invitations."

Andy looks about as confused as I feel: "Was, the recital cancelled?"

Ephram: "No, I just decided I don't want anybody there. It's no big deal."

Andy: "It _is_ a big deal. What—" Pause. Gasp. "Could you at least tell me why?" Andy is so off-balance.

Ephram pulls a complete and total teenager: "Because it's _my_ recital and I don't want anybody there." It's unclear if he means Andy as well.

They go back and forth on that one for a while because apparently they had ten minutes of ep they didn't know what to do with. Ephram finally leaves.

Delia, obviously trying to lighten things up, says, "We could throw a pregger." Andy does a double-take, and I realize that's the second reference to pregnancy in the past two eps. I'm counting the "Look, I'm a mummy." / "Not until high school, dear." exchange between Delia and her teacher in "The Miracle of Everwood." And then we cap it all off with next week's "Episode 20." I can't say I'm looking forward to it.

 

Aliens. VW buses. Cue wacky alien music. Harold drives through Everwood's main street, honking at the "tie-dyed space freaks." Andy shows up, invokes Carl Sagan and buys a soft pretzel from an alien street vendor. Just one more way for _Everwood_ to show us how different Harold and Andy are. In case we'd somehow missed that before.

 

Gauze. Train station. Chuck's got a head wound. Sleep clinic, etc. Both Chuck and Betsy are heavy sleepers. Aliens. Yawn.

 

Lockers. Amy in a terrible gathered striped red seventies blouse she probably bought at the Gap. She's talking to herself because we can't read the words on the fancy invitation she's holding. "Oh, Ephram's recital, cool."

Ephram comes up, surprised, says, "Yeah, I didn't know he sent you one."

They talk about being nervous. Ephram says he tries not to think about it. Amy agrees, saying her ballet recitals are always so stressful and her dad invites a million people. Ephram must feel like a kicked puppy at that. He had to remind his dad to invite people to his recital, then he freaked out and called it off, and now he's not going to have any guests at all.

Amy says count her RSVP'd. Ephram asks if she's sure about that. Turns out it's not an invitation after all. It's an unvitation. She says yeah, unless he doesn't want her to be there? She sounds nervous.

Ephram: "I just, I don't know if it's the best idea."

Amy: "You afraid you'll mess up or something?" She smiles like the idea's ridiculous.

Ephram: "Look, Amy, I appreciate you trying to act like everything's normal. You know, this whole Colin thing. But we both know it's not. And I think it's best if we just kept our distance for a while, don't you?"

Ooh, Ephram, tell me about the whole Colin thing. Please? No? All right then. Just don't expect me to do anything nice for you.

Amy: "Um, yeah. I guess you're right, Ephram."

Ephram closes his eyes and bows his head a little, like his prayers have been answered. Amy hands the invite to him. "Good luck," she says, walking off. Ephram sighs, throws his head back, drops the hand holding the invitation and hates himself.

Down the hall, Kate approaches. Ephram asks if she goes there, saying he'd never noticed her before. If she's such a hot piano player, why _hasn't_ Ephram noticed her before? Especially if Matt has been teaching her for a couple years? The **Magic Everwood 8-Ball** says, _Yes, definitely. Why don't you go play outside?_

Ephram says he likes to know when he's in the presence of greatness then follows this up with: "I mean, I thought I was good, but you were amazing."

It's impossible to ignore, so I'm going to propose a piano-as-sex metaphor here. Which creates an awkward love triangle with four legs, but Matt can double as piano, giving us: Ephram/Kate/Matt. So not only are Ephram and Kate competing for Matt's attention, they're competing to be the best at what Matt judges them on, the piano. If they can prove their skill at the piano, they can secure their role in Matt's life.

But back to the show. Kate runs off a list of things she did wrong, prefacing it with, "You didn't notice my...?" Which manages to bring Ephram's skills into question as well. That's just how catty she is.

Ephram says, "No, I'm just glad I won't have to play after you. Ha. Ha." He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, juggling his books, sticking one hand in his pocket. He's not nervous because he has a crush on her, though. He's got a crush on her talent _and her piano teacher_.

"I could play that piece perfectly and I still wouldn't make the finale slot," Kate says.

Ephram says, "Matt knows what he's doing."

"Matt does know what he's doing. Trust me, Liberace has a better shot at the finale than I do." Kate walks off. Uh, what's she trying to say? That a flashy gay pianist is more likely to hold Matt's attention than her? Or was that just supposed to be funny because Liberace is dead? Whatever that was about, it's obvious she's heard Matt talk about Ephram. And it's just as obvious that she's jealous of Ephram, which explains her coldness. Ephram's head swings around to watch her go.

 

Sidewalk. People. There's a crowd in front of Mama Joy's and Harold's pushing his way through, identifying himself as a "Harvard-based life form." The host tells him he'll have to wait, or he can share a table. Harold mutters about breaking bread with the lunatic fringe. The camera shifts to Andy who's sitting at a table for two and waving Harold over. These two should just give up. It's apparent they'll never be rid of each other.

Harold takes his seat, saying, "For once you're not the craziest person in Mama Joy's."

Andy says, "Thanks. Feels good."

Andy asks if Harold has the invitation to Ephram's recital. Harold doesn't. Does this mean Amy stole it? If Andy hand-delivered those invitations that morning, and Amy had it with her at school and was opening it for the first time...who did Andy give the invitation to? How did Amy get it without realizing what it was? What in the name of Pete is going on here? **Magic Everwood 8-Ball** says, _You worry too much. Have a drink._

Andy: "I have to disinvite you. It's not my choice. I have no choice."

Harold: "I take it back, you're still the craziest."

Andy: "No, no, it's not me. It's Ephram. He keeps changing his mind from one minute to the next. I can't figure out what he wants."

Harold, once again irrationally biased against Andy's children, says, "Case of pre-recital jitters. He's nervous. Doesn't want to make a fool out of himself in front of 300 people, let alone in front of his father, although you have humiliated yourself plenty in front of him. So it's not like it's a big deal for your family."

The phrase "big deal" shows up a lot in this episode. Usually it's the kids saying it, so it's funny to hear Harold use it. Harold tucks his paper napkin into his collar. Chuck the lumberjack comes over and switches the sleep clinic to tomorrow, Friday. Harold watches him go, points aghast, says, "What were we just talking about?"

Andy drinks some water. "Ephram's piano recital," he says matter-of-factly. It takes a second, but, "Oh, damn!"

Harold throws up his hands. Andy bribes Harold to run the sleep clinic. Harold's disgusted but says he'll do anything to prove the _National Enquirer_ wrong. As if Harold even cares what the _Enquirer_ is printing. This episode has worn me out. Soon I'll stop even being able to complain. Though, if I hang on, I'll be able to tell you about Ephram's jeans later. That will be nice.

 

Stuffed animals. The camera pans away and shows Amy and Edna sitting at Amy's computer. Amy's got glasses on. Have we ever seen those before? They're _so_ trying to convince me she's smart. Instead they're reminding me how much this episode _isn't_ "War of the Coprophages." Amy's no Dana Scully. And Edna is, by no stretch of the imagination, Mulder. I hate you today, _Everwood_.

Edna's whining about phosphorescent minerals. Amy's instant messaging someone. I'm confused as to why she'd be talking to a Bob Newhart fan. wearemany kickstarts my brain by saying Amy's probably talking to Colin, and suddenly the handle makes sense: newhart2002.

> newhart2002: How are things going? Any luck?  
>  amy: Nothing yet. But still looking.  
>  newhart2002: IMHO, it's gotta to be out there.  
>  amy: I haven't tried to be abducted yet.  
>  newhart2002: LOL  
>  newhart2002: Try it, you'll like it. :)  
>  amy: BRB  
>  newhart2002: NP  
>  newhart2002: I'm just sitting here...

Okay, Colin waiting around for Amy to be done playing X-Files with her grandmother is the saddest thing ever. But it's Colin's own fault for breaking up with his boyfriend. Also? They went totally overboard on the chat abbreviations. When did Colin learn this stuff?

Edna asks about the IM window, which comes complete with AIM chimes. It took her that long to notice? Amy dismisses it as an "internet thing." She's got a stylus instead of a mouse. Why? Is she an artist? Will I ever stop asking these questions that no one cares about but me? Where is Ephram? I'm not going to make it to his fabulous jeans.

Amy tries to organize a field trip to camp out with the alien freaks. Harold comes in _with the laundry_. He assigns Amy homework, but lets her go.

Edna: "Good choice, Junior."

Harold: "Right, as if I ever had one."

Which is just what Andy was saying back in Mama Joy's. They no longer have a choice. They have kids instead.

 

Concert hall. Piano. Kate's playing, and the show has helpfully set up our triangle for us. Kate's at the piano and on either side of the piano is Matt, who is staring at her compulsively, and Ephram, who is staring at her hands. Piano love triangle!

Kate finishes, and Matt says she's better but not up to snuff, and he tells her to practice more before tomorrow. Matt's got on a weird black shirt with an white off-centered stripe down the chest. He's also got the final order for the recital tomorrow. I'll just ignore the fact that this means there won't be programs printed up.

Predictably the fat kid is first. Because he sucks. Matt names everybody but Kate and Ephram, who are sitting near each other. He walks over, and chooses Ephram for the finale: "And Ephram, you're our anchor. Do us proud."

"What'd I tell you?" Kate snarls, spurned. She takes off and Ephram stares after her, at a loss. There so _much_ of that in this show.

 

Mirror. Piano. Ephram practicing in the concert hall. I think this is a different day. I'll even go so far as to say it's Friday. Matt is sitting in a chair next to Ephram, watching him intently. Ephram tries to give us a big finish, but the action on screen doesn't match with the soundtrack. Now for a brief intermission:

Dear Gregory,

Please take some piano lessons over hiatus, and tell those loser sound guys to stop making you look bad. They're just jealous.

Love,  
Punk

"Bravo!" says Matt.

Ephram flirts with Matt, giving an acceptance speech for an academy award. Poor sweetie doesn't even realize where he is. _You're playing the piano, Ephram, not starring in a major motion picture._

Ephram: "...and I would like to thank my piano teacher, Matt, for taking a chance on a no-name."

Matt flirts back: "Love to take the credit, but it's all you, my friend."

Ephram asks why he got the finale, since Kate's obviously a better player than him.

Matt says, "Kate's terrific, but that comes from long hours of practice. She has diligence. You have a gift. Sucks for her. Cool for you."

Kate has the technical ability. Ephram has the passion. Matt chose passion over mechanics. Because passion is sexy.

Matt moves from his chair to sit next to Ephram on the bench. All the better to break up with him. Poor Ephram, all his men are leaving him. Matt says he got another job.

Ephram's as confused as if he's been told Matt's straight. I know how he feels.

Ephram: "I, uh, I didn't know you'd been looking. When, where?" (Which comes out sounding exactly like: "You've been seeing other people? Why? Why!")

Matt says he's moving to London and Ephram's mouth flinches.

"I guess Everwood can't really compete with London, right?" Ephram says. Now he knows how Bright and Amy must feel with New York Ephram sweeping in and stealing away their Colin.

Big Gay Matt says, "Well, Madonna lives there for a reason." This surprises a small laugh out of Ephram and a loud rant out of wearemany regarding how gay Matt is. I agree. LOOK at this man's beautiful crimson silk shirt. SEE how close he's sitting to Ephram. HEAR him know where Madonna lives. And TELL me he's not gay.

Ephram says, "Well, it's going to suck losing one of the three people in this town I can carry on a conversation with." This is a fun game. Let me name those three people for you: Colin, Amy, Matt. Did I miss anyone? Ephram needs his own secret decoder ring: "Everyone I love leaves me!" And not that Matt actually lives in Everwood. Unless he moved there and didn't bother to tell us? We're so out of the loop.

Matt says that's what e-mail's for. Which is what Amy and Colin's relationship has basically turned into, and we all saw how satisfying that was, Colin just sitting around online waiting for Amy to have a spare moment for him, since he already alienated Bright and Ephram.

Matt tells Ephram to practice the end again, "Then you're fine." He slaps Ephram on the back and returns to his chair where he sits and watches Ephram play. He's in the center of the frame, so our focus is on Matt while he watches Ephram. It's getting sort of _Lolita_ y in here. Seriously, the older man in a chair, watching the teenager perform for him is straight out of the Stanley Kubrick movie. I couldn't make this stuff up! This is its own tiny love triangle of Ephram, Matt, Piano.

 

Tent. Truck. Garage. Amy and Edna pack up the truck to go camping. Edna exposes Amy's one-girl conspiracy to dump Edna for Colin, then punishes Amy by still making her go camping.

 

Ribbon. Couch. Andy on the phone trying to do Delia's hair and talk to Chuck at the same time.

Ephram. In a suit. With his black pea coat. And. Something about an old Underground map for Matt and a couple belts of whiskey to take the edge off. But, really. Ephram. In a suit. Perched on the arm of a chair! Here. I'll try to focus. wearemany insists that there's no way Ephram could have found an old Underground map in Everwood on such short notice. She's convinced he had it in a shoebox in his closet, a souvenir from a family trip to London back when his mom was still alive.

Meanwhile, Andy says he dropped the cups off at the concert hall.

Ephram, seriously: "Well, you've done a fine job with the cups. Mom would be proud."

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: _Does everyone start their sentences with "well" on this show?_ Yes.

Ephram: "So how many people RSVP'd for this thing."

Oh god, here we go again. What follows is basically the inverse of the second conversation in the kitchen, making it directly proportional to the _first_ conversation in the kitchen. We'll just skip it.

A horn honks. Matt's there. Ephram says he's getting a ride with him. That looks like news to Andy. It's news to us too. Is Matt picking up ALL his pupils or just the ones he has big gay love for? Ephram takes off. Andy herds Delia out the door. The recital's not for another hour, but Andy has to round up an audience for his ridiculously moody son.

Ephram's sending his father through the hoops, but I can't figure out if he's doing it solely to see Andy jump, or if Ephram IS nervous about playing. The first day in the kitchen, Ephram prods Andy to get the invitations out because Ephram probably pretty much expected to get the finale and be god's gift to Everwood. Then he told Andy to call off the invitations, probably a direct result of having heard Kate play. So Ephram was worried he wasn't as good as Kate or that Matt didn't love him as much as Kate and therefore Ephram didn't want to be seen in public as second-best. Next, Matt gives Ephram the finale, and Ephram suddenly wants people to see him. Ephram won, he's the best, the most loved, and he wants an audience for that.

The problem I'm having with this yo-yo Ephram, is that Ephram doesn't seem aware of what he's putting Andy through. Ephram doesn't even seem all that aware that he's being unreasonable. That very well may be the definition of "teenager," but Ephram is usually more self-aware than this. It's like he's not entirely _here_. Like in that first kitchen scene where Andy says he invited Harry and Ephram doesn't even realize Andy's lying. Ephram seems strangely removed from himself. I blame the writers. Ephram knows he's incredibly talented. What's more, is that he knows he can play his recital piece. There's no excuse for this back and forth. I still blame the writers.

 

Desk. Magazines. Bullets. Harold's going through Edna's desk in the train station. He's overseeing the sleep clinic, but Chuck won't sleep. Harold offers to recite _Goodnight, Moon_ for him, possibly by memory. Andy wouldn't even know what that was. Chuck and Harold go off to find Betsy, since Chuck can't sleep without her.

 

Campfire. XF Reunion Tour. Amy & Edna. Aliens Brought Us Together. People who believe in life on other planets are insane. Etc.

Andy shows up, yelling for Amy and Edna. Amy's worried something's wrong.

Andy: "Ephram's piano recital is tonight, and I'd like you to come. I know he'd really like you to be there."

Amy: "Well, actually he made it very clear that he didn't want me there at all."

Andy: "Well, I learned a very valuable lesson this week, which I am now going to impart to you: Whatever he says about his piano recital, he means the exact opposite."

Andy's got the wrong decoder ring. Ephram, for all his waffling, actually meant what he said each time he said it. He changed his mind later, but that's not the same as saying something and meaning the opposite, which is what Colin was doing in "The Miracle of Everwood."

They're so making Ephram out into a prima donna here. It's not his fault he's confused. _It's the writers'._ Plus Big Gay Matt is jerking him around. Note also how Amy does not immediately rush to get Edna's permission. Amy says she can't go. Which prompts Edna to let her. Was Amy guilt-tripping Edna? Was Amy practicing a little reverse psychology? Was that manipulation? I can't tell anymore. Also HOW did Andy find them? Harold's at Chuck's house by now. Rose probably took off with her gravy boat to wherever it is she goes when she's not actually in the episodes. This ep hates me. Who wrote it? I'll have their head on a platter.

 

People. Backstage. Concert hall. The house opens in 10 minutes. Ephram, looking so handsome in his suit, darts around looking for Matt. He asks the fat kid if he's seen him. The fat kid says Matt's downstairs making a phone call, then he turns back to his buddy, saying, "This fortissimo is killing me. I don't know what I'm going to do." Because, yo, if you're overweight, you're inept. Thank you, _Everwood_. Fortissimo just means LOUD. Nothing special is required except volume.

Ephram goes in search of Matt, tapping the wrapped Underground map against one hand, his thigh...he's so twitchy today. He also said he was going to wait until after the recital to give Matt his present, but that won't advance the plot. Ephram starts checking random offices and practice rooms. He has clearly never watched TV or he would know this is a Very Bad Idea.

He finds Kate and Matt kissing. They stop, caught. Ephram shakes his head once, shuts the door, rolls his head and throws away the map angrily, looking totally betrayed.

 

The top of Ephram's head. Big Finish Ephram plays the finale. This is a beautiful scene, very visual and centered around the piano. It's unusual to have such a long stretch without any dialogue. TV doesn't like to do that because we're all so dumb we'd get bored without constant stimulation and wander out into traffic and die.

Ephram finishes and smiles to himself because he did it, but he still looks heartbroken and about to cry. He stands, sees that Amy is in the crowd—no, he'd actually be blinded by those stage lights, but nevermind that—he smiles, bows, and walks offstage where Kate is.

Kate says, "You were amazing tonight."

The return of the Piano as Sex metaphor, but Ephram doesn't believe her. He's insecure now because he thinks Matt was lying about Ephram having a gift and only gave the finale to Ephram to cover his ass.

Ephram, for about the sixteenth time this season says, "Look, I get it, all right? I'm not an idiot." He promises not to blow her cover: "I'm sure people will figure out how naive you are without me ever saying a word."

Ephram has so many secrets to keep! First Colin, now this.

Kate, with more attitude: "Oh, you think _I'm_ naive?"

Oh, hello. This is interesting. What does Kate mean by that? Clearly she knows something about Matt and Ephram that _Ephram_ does not know. Because she couldn't possibly be implying that Ephram is naive for believing Matt's moving to London. Because that would be bizarre. Though it would fit right in with the rest of the episode's complete lack of sense.

Kate tells Ephram that she and Matt are in love and he's only leaving town because her father found out about them. Which makes just, no sense. "He's leaving because he loves me" is a weak argument, and probably only works if you're a teenage girl. Ephram certainly sees the flaw. But mostly he's disappointed that Matt lied to him.

Ephram deflates. Kate pounces: "Hey, I guess you believe everything Matt tells you. Who's the naive one now?"

Okay, granted Kate IS a teenage girl who thinks she's in love, but she's making no sense. Let's pretend that it's Ephram and Matt having the affair. Kate's jealous. She's trying to discredit Ephram _and_ Matt by bringing Matt's honesty into question and making Ephram feel gullible for believing him. She's trying to break them up so she can swoop in and devour the leftovers! That's the only thing I get out of this, that Kate considers Ephram competition, and she's using every resource available to her to make Ephram doubt Matt.

Then there's how gay it all is. Kate's line about "I guess you believe everything Matt tells you" is typically something you'd say in response to "he says he loves me." If truth is love, then this explains why Ephram's so upset. He sees Matt's lies as an indication that Matt doesn't love him. But why is Kate so upset? Is she overcompensating because she knows she's naive _and pregnant_? Because Matt chose Ephram's passion over her technical proficiency? Because Matt can't shut up about how talented Ephram is? I have no idea. I just know that it's very very gay.

 

Betsy punches Harold.

 

Campsite. How did Amy get back there? She says the recital was awesome and she just knows Ephram's going to be a famous piano player some day. "Even bigger than Tori Amos or that guy from _Shine_." I can't even begin to point out the things wrong with that. Tori Amos is a singer/songwriter/fucking awesome piano player. Ephram, if he's lucky, is one of those things. Similarly, she can't even _remember_ the guy from Shine's name. So how famous is David Helfgott, really? This is what Ephram has to look forward to? Amy is suffering from the same problem Andy had earlier when he named two "real-life" lumberjacks that were both fictional. You figure there must be lumberjacks and pianists out there somewhere, but no one really knows any. Which probably explains the awkward Liberace joke earlier.

Edna says Harold and Amy both have tunnel vision, which leads to Edna saying something so Freudian that I yelled out loud in fear and loathing.

Edna: "And right now your tunnel leads to Colin, and only to Colin."

Yah! WHERE is Standards & Practices when you need them? Someone needs to protect me from lines like that!

Edna goes on to say that there's a very fine line between devotion and obsession. Amy translates that into "there's more to life than boys."

 _Everwood_ then decides to finish off its plagiarized XF plot with a big smelly finish. Dead moths. Amy says, "Remember that article we read on the internet about how sometimes swarms of bugs can get caught in some kind of electrical field and glow?"

Let's be honest, Amy. What you were reading on the net was a transcript for "War of the Coprophages." You're no Dana Scully, but you're no Bambi either. Additionally, this show needs to stop trying to be _Northern Exposure_ , because it's doing a crappy job of it.

 

Concert Hall. Ephram, in these jeans. Baggy jeans, running into his shoes. Pea coat. Yummy Ephram. Ahem.

Matt's packing up stuff and Ephram slams into the hall. Matt looks up. Ephram's all worked up. He stands with his legs apart, because he's _pissed_ , and demands Matt be honest with him.

Matt: "I am being honest."

Ephram: "No you're not. You lied. You lied to me. You lied to Kate. All you had to do was tell me the truth."

Yeah, how did he lie to Kate again? Did I miss a scene? Or is Matt actually moving to London after all? Forget the writers. I'm getting the feeling this episode was developed by two monkeys and a drunk wolverine.

Matt says he was always honest with Ephram where the music was concerned, when it came to what was really important.

Ephram: "Forget the music! This has nothing to do with that. I trusted you. I believed what you told me for the last two months. Not just about the piano, but about life, people, everything. I took your advice to heart because I thought we were friends."

Forget the music? What is that supposed to mean? What else do they have besides the music? **Magic Everwood 8-Ball** says, _All signs point to GAY._

Ephram: "You're a liar."

Matt: "Don't be so quick to judge me. In ten years you'll have done things that you never would have thought possible. Call me when you get there. We'll compare notes."

Ephram, calmly: "Screw you." He maintains eye contact to drive the point home, then turns to go.

Matt: "You're a better pianist now than you were two months ago, Ephram. My job was to bring out the best of your abilities. That's what I was hired to do."

Ephram, at the door: "Is that what you were hired to do for Kate?" He slams out.

Ephram's line makes Matt into even more of an ass than anything else Matt's said or done, because it's not even that Matt was screwing around with a high school girl, it's that Matt was supposed to bring out the best of her abilities, and the only thing he did was get her pregnant. Apparently in his world, childbearing is the best of a woman's abilities.

This whole conversation is filled with so much subtext I'd need a bulldozer to unearth all of it. But I like my "truth = love" metaphor. It reads well here. Instead of having a fight about truth and lies, it's a fight about love, both sexual and musical. Ephram's acting like a betrayed lover because he is.

 

Mama Joy's. Which is empty again. For no reason the show has explained. Harold's back at the counter, paper napkin tucked in his collar, black eye on his face. Andy comes in and sits next to him. They exposition the Alaska/communication/repression aspect of the MEOW.

Harold says, "And, as for myself, I am going back to my original medical regimen which means staying as far away from you as humanly possible."

Harold leaves and Andy smiles because he knows Harold can't stay away.

 

Night street. Andy, Delia, and Ephram walking. Ephram still in his yummy jeans and pea coat, with the collar flipped up! Delia runs off to see if the video store has E.T.

Ephram and Andy talk about the Matt/Kate situation. Andy says he feels somewhat responsible, having "chose" Matt for Ephram. Ah, arranged marriages.

Ephram: "Did it say lying scum on his resume?" Our little Ephram is so bitter!

Andy says next time Ephram can pick, and they'll put the tutors through a heavy screening process. So Ephram can pick his own boyfriend next time, basically.

Ephram goes over all Scarlet O'Hara: "Yeah, I don't think I want another piano teacher." _I'll never love again!_

Andy: "Why? Just because Matt's a jerk...doesn't mean you have to—"

Ephram: "It's more than that. I don't know if it's worth it."

Andy: "What are you talking about?"

Ephram: "What's the point of being great at something if you have to compromise everything you believe in to get there?"

Andy: "Who says you have to compromise?"

Ephram: "Matt—"

Andy: "Forget Matt. He doesn't know you. He doesn't know half of what you're capable of. And you're better than him. You're a better pianist and a better human being."

Go Andy. And is that what Matt's "in ten years" speech was all about? Compromises? Because I don't understand the compromise Matt's making by sleeping with a high school girl. What's he...giving up to do that...or what's he gaining by doing it? Where's the compromise?

If Big Gay Matt really is as gay as he looks, or if he thinks Ephram is gay, then that compromises speech takes on a whole new level of dysfunction, because he's telling Ephram that in order to be gay you have to make compromises, hide who you are in order to make it in the world. I'm really reading between the lines here, but that's only because the lines they gave me _make no sense_.

It's also important to note that during this scene, and it may just be a shadow, but Ephram seems to have a bruise or hickey on his collarbone. Hey, Irv lives in his fantasy world, I'll live in mine.

Ephram: "Am I better than you? You compromised. Think about it. Would you have saved as many lives as you did if you were home for dinner every night?"

Andy: "Probably not."

Ephram: "And you regret it now? Not being home?"

Andy: "You won't make the same mistakes I did."

Ephram: "You don't know that."

Andy: "Yes I do. You're 15, Ephram, and you're already asking yourself these questions. It took me 25 years of neurosurgery, the death of your mother, and moving us to the middle of nowhere before I even knew what the questions were."

"Now that you know what the questions are...can we please move back to New York?" Ephram asks, bumping against Andy as they walk.

Four things:

1\. Last week in "The Miracle of Everwood," Joel brought up these same issues of Andy wasting his talents out in the middle of nowhere. So Andy's getting that guilt from all sides.

2\. Note that Andy does not answer Ephram's question about regretting not being home.

3\. Ephram is doomed to be 15 forever, isn't he? It's spring. He's a sophomore in high school. In what world is he still 15?

4\. Throughout this episode, Andy has referred to his wife Julia only in terms of her being Ephram and Delia's mother. That is, he calls her "Mom" or "your mother" at least three times. He doesn't call her by name. It's like he can only deal with her loss on one level at a time. Today he's okay with his children's mother being gone, but maybe he can't yet deal with missing the mother AND the wife.

Irv: "Despite our fascination with the beauty of stars, most people are uneducated when it comes to basic facts about the heavens. Some mysteries aren't meant to be understood. Some questions are best unanswered."

Irv, you freak, the questions Andy and Ephram are dealing with _are_ important ones. Answering them is the only thing that's going to allow Ephram and Andy to be happy. You might have been talking about the questions about the moths and the aliens and the stars, but proximity directly relates your voiceover to Andy and Ephram's conversation, which ends up undermining their relationship AND your trite voiceover. If you're going to hover about omnisciently, do a better job of it.

Meanwhile, back in Everwood, the camera stays behind while Andy and Ephram walk down the street together in the dark.


	5. Episode 20 [1.21]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussion of teenage pregnancy and abortion.

# Women's Issues: A Theme, by Everwood

 

Well, and here I thought they were _just_ going to deal with teenage pregnancy. I should have known better. Berlanti got a three-for-one special at Price Club and took this opportunity to pummel us with several other things women also need to be concerned with. Namely pornography, keeping a home, and raising children.

The one thing that made large portions of this episode tolerable is that Andy was forced into the role of Domestic, which shows that women are not the only gender that can run a home, but Andy is so inept at it that it almost entirely ruins the point. wearemany wants me to make a Mr. Mom joke here. But the point that Ephram makes in his first appearance on screen is: There are some things men can't do; it's genetic. Ephram was talking about braiding hair, but the episode spread it out a lot further than that. Men can't cook. Men can't reproduce. Men can't be women.

 

There's a blessed lack of Irv during the teaser. Is it because it'd seem insensitive to have an omniscient, omnipresent man attempting to philosophize about the creation of life? Irv is the God of Everwood, and it's notable that he's got nothing to say about this situation. Apparently they're letting us make up our OWN minds this week. Gee, I hope we don't mess up.

After the teaser, Andy, as seems to be habit, is shown in the kitchen making breakfast. Ephram says Andy's pancakes look like something out of a commercial, and that Andy's domesticity scares him. Ephram's joking, but he's not. Andy's cooking is famously bad, so Ephram is surprised to see Andy finally succeeding in the kitchen, which is historically a woman's realm. Women are the home, the internal; men are the external: the city, the Law, and politics. This episode really toes that party line. All the women we see are acting in role of caregiver. Edna, for all her usual hardassedness, is nothing but a stand-in maternal figure here. She does have a big speech about The Man, but it doesn't change much except Andy's mind, which wasn't really what she was aiming for. Rose, the one female authority figure in this entire town, is only mentioned by name (by her husband, in the same sentence as "the kids"), and that's the closest we get to a woman in power.

When Delia finds a Penthouse magazine in Nina's attic, Nina gets close to being tossed out of the township for talking about women's bodies as something beautiful. Nina's subverting the male gaze by saying women's bodies are like art or music. She's taking away male power by claiming the magazine as art rather than exploitation. She'll be punished for that later by The Father.

 

Now for some sorely needed comic gay relief: Bright standing by the bicycle rack at school, lips moving. Who do we know with a bicycle? That's right.

Ephram comes up and asks Bright if he's talking to himself. Ephram has black gloves on. He's so cute. Bright wants to know if Ephram wants to go to the Spring Formal.

"With you?" Ephram asks, not seeming put off at all. This is why this show is so gay. It's not afraid to make jokes like that.

Bright's got a date, Emma, but he needs to set up Ephram with Emma's cousin...from a different school? Is there only ONE big Spring Formal for all of Colorado? Just a little backstory might be nice. Bright's never met Emma's cousin Sherri, but figures Emma's hot so her cousin must be too. Ephram points out that Amy's hot, but that Bright isn't. Ephram's clearly thought about this.

Ephram wants to know why Bright can't get someone else to do this for him. Bright says that after "that whole Colin thing" everyone's been treating him like a leopard. "Leper," Ephram corrects.

Bright says that Ephram owes him, that Bright took a punch for Ephram. Which is interesting. Bright's not smart enough to be that manipulative, so he must feel like he was protecting Ephram? No. He probably _blames_ Ephram for Colin punching Bright, simply because Bright was trying to stop Colin and instead it attracted his attention. Colin never would have punched Bright if Ephram hadn't been there. Ephram didn't do the math quickly enough, though, and decides he must owe Bright something because he agrees.

 

Back to the drudgery that is the battle of the sexes. Andy's taking a very scientific (male) approach to the dishwasher, telling Delia they can easily maximize space by arranging the dishes in the most efficient way, etc. Andy's basically on his knees peering at the dishwasher like it's a car engine or space shuttle. Ephram is nowhere to be seen. Giving us Delia and Andy in the kitchen.

Delia has a box with Arnie's birthday present in it. It's the Penthouse she found in Nina's apartment, and I'm not afraid to tell you I literally couldn't watch the birthday party. I had my arm over my eyes during the entire scene. I just couldn't take it! Because, like Andy says, it is embarrassing, but only because Delia didn't have the whole story. She was lacking the understanding of the cultural and social significance that magazine has. She thought she was giving her friend something artistic and beautiful, but the grownups only saw porn. Now Delia's the one being treated like a leopard.

Jim Morris, Kate's dad, stops by to be a water buffalo's ass. He's angry that Andy gave Kate choices beyond abortion. Morris stands for the patriarchy here, and he's quite literally taking away a woman's right to choose. This episode is trying hard to be fair, but it's a touchy subject that needs more than half an hour to be dealt with. If Berlanti really had the balls, he'd have spread this out over three episodes, but then, I'm not sure I'd want to watch that, either. So we get half an hour for Kate and her problems.

The one thing from this episode that really stands out for me is Andy's first conversation with Kate. He says, "Whatever choice you make is gonna be the right one, as long as it's yours." It's the smartest thing this episode said on the subject. Whatever else happened in this hour, it at least said that up front.

Morris is still blustering away on Andy's back porch, like the shady business this is. He says the only question is whether Andy is going to help Kate or not. _Help_ her. This is everything Edna yells about in her little rant to Andy. Edna's Inappropriate Editorial: Men make a mess, women clean it up. A man got Kate pregnant, then another man sent her to a third man and told him to take care of it.

Edna's argument is simplified and suffering from Sorkinification,* but it does apply to this situation, except for one thing: Kate may be young, but it actually took a man _and_ a woman to get her pregnant.

* **Sorkinification** : The quality of not having enough women leads in your show such that you are forced to pick between your two female characters in order to get someone to deliver your topical speech on women's issues. Often results in diatribes that feel out of character.

 

Kate sits in the waiting room of Andy's train station, and I just now realized what a marvelous metaphor it is to have a doctor's office in an old train station. Edna's making small talk with her for some reason I can't figure out because it's clear Kate doesn't want to talk. Edna really needs to shut up.

Oh, but here's the reason. Edna brings up Kate's Grandma Mae's yearly egg hunts. Mae, as Edna says, was quite the entertainer. This pointless scene has been brought to you by Eggs!: Fertile! And Womanly! They Make Great Hostesses! But There's Always One Egg That Gets Left Behind And Starts To Smell Funny!

Eggs! Eggs! Get It?

Moving on.

 

Oh, good, more gay. Amy answers the door to find Ephram on the step. He's there for Bright. Amy, like every bratty little sister ever, yells up the stairs that Ephram's here.

Amy: "So you boys are going shopping?"

Ephram: "Yeah, something like that."

Mm, something. Way to be vague, Ephram. Amy chatters at his back for a while. We can see him run his tongue around his mouth and roll his eyes. Ephram tells Amy that she doesn't need to wait around. She asks if he's trying to get rid of her. "Yes," he says.

Bright comes barreling down the stairs so fast I'm surprised he doesn't fly off the landing. He rips his tie off the collar of his t-shirt. "Check it out, dude." It's a clip-on. "One-handed for easy access. My suit pants got velcro in 'em." He's so proud of himself. He's like a special-needs stripper. And, okay, it's done. I like Bright. There. It only took three months.

Question: What are these boys shopping for if Bright already has his break-away trousers?

 

Back to the grind. Andy yells at Nina for exposing his daughter to porn and not telling Delia how dirty it is. Nina messed up. She should have warned Andy that Delia found the Penthouse and started asking questions. And I'm curious to know how Delia got out of Nina's house with that magazine. Delia didn't know it was something to be ashamed of, so she wouldn't have SNUCK it out. But whatever. Andy's got a big case of "not my daughter" syndrome. It matches up nicely with Jim Morris' case. It's practically an epidemic.

 

Harold (who, it's about time I tell you this, dear readers, wearemany and I have called Big Gay Dad since we started watching this show), is in an armchair, fully dressed -- complete with shiny dress shoes -- and eating popcorn from a bowl. He brings the popcorn with him to answer the door. It's Andy. Harold _so_ smiles like this is a date. He says Rose and the kids are out.

Harold and Andy have a talk about Kate's case. Harold says that Andy needs to send Kate to Denver, that Everwood can't deal with this kind of thing.

Andy says he can't send "every kid who finds himself in this predicament" four hours away to Denver. Interesting _pronoun_ , Andy. Himself? Outside of fanfic, it's not often that men find themselves with unwanted pregnancies. I wonder if that was in the script or a goof on Treat William's part. For what it's worth, and it's not worth much, the closed captioning also had it as "himself."

Harold apparently, and I do say _apparently_ , subscribes to the "not in my backyard" strain of the "not my daughter" syndrome. He says that Kate will get help, in Denver, and that Andy needs to worry about his own family, that performing an abortion in a town like this can get a man killed.

 

Big Gay Break: Spring Formal, and WOW, I have to say, that was the LEAST build-up to a school dance EVER. Usually we have to deal with at least 40 minutes of angst and wacky mishaps involving limos and corsages and trained killers. Okay, maybe that last one was just on _Buffy_. Still, _Dawson's Creek_ never had a formal dance that didn't require 45 minutes of talking first. That left about two minutes for the dance and the scene where Pacey and Joey and Dawson all fought with each other. But back to the big gay dance...

Bright and his date are sitting on one side of a table, suspiciously not dancing. Ephram's in a suit complete with boutonniere, looking totally morose. He's slouched in his chair, legs spread out in front of him, and he's got a PURSE on his lap. Emma tries to tell him that her cousin seems to really like him. There's a shot of the cousin kissing some tall guy.

"Yeah," adds Bright, "as a coatrack." Ephram waves the little black purse around then puts it on the table. "I need a drink," he says, and swaggers off.

At the punch bowl, Amy waddles over in some Batman contraption. She tells Ephram he looks nice, and he says so does she. Colin comes up behind Amy and takes this in.

"Don't I look nice?" Colin asks Ephram. Colin is so jealous. Remember about the missing Big Gay Arc I'm convinced happened somewhere between "The Price of Fame" and "The Miracle of Everwood"? Well, it's still in full effect here. Colin and Ephram are all jealous and angry; they _so_ just broke up.

Ephram says, "You look ravishing." Amy looks uncomfortable. Colin looks over his shoulder, "Did you notice your date's making out with someone else?"

Amy snaps, "Colin, don't be a jerk."

Ephram toasts Colin with his punch. "As always, it's been a pleasure. I'd love to stick around for punch and _mumble_ , but I've got a date to be blown off by." Which is so much less fun than having a date to be blown by.

Ephram now put in his place, Colin turns to Amy and commands her to a dance.

 

This is the scene in the train station where Edna explodes at Andy because the episode required a woman's opinion and Berlanti couldn't _find_ any. Edna accuses Andy of not wanting to deal with the abortion because he's making Edna unpack the Menacing Brown Box of Irreversible Action. She forgot the part where she's the NURSE and Andy's reading up on abortions because he's the kind of guy to cram for a test the night before he has to take it. This does not make me confident in his abilities.

Edna: "Men have the luxury of walking away."

Andy: "Are you done?"

Edna: "Not by a long shot, but I've got work to do."

Edna storms off into the examination room with her big doomful box. And because we have to learn something, Andy thinks for a while at his desk, then stands up and leans against the doorframe. "You're right," he tells her.

Oh, because apparently Andy was putting off dealing with the abortion. Because, "I don't know where life begins -- I don't even know if, for a scientist, that question is answerable -- but I do know when it ends."

I wouldn't be so quick, there, Andy. Medical science doesn't have any concrete, final definition for the beginning OR ending of life. It's all about stages, and the quality of life each stage allows. Look at Colin. He was a paperweight for four months. Now he's an asshole, look at the progress he's made!

Andy says he doesn't know when life begins, but he knows he can't be the one to end it. Edna sends him back to Harold.

 

We return to the Very Gay Spring Formal. Amy and Colin dance. One of Amy's interchangeable friends swoops by with her date. This girl is obviously leading so that she can talk to Amy without her date getting in the way. She infodumps the situation with Emma's cousin. Which was nice, but pointless. We understood Ephram was being used.

Amy looks uncomfortable some more, then says she's going to talk with Ephram. Colin's face screws up, "Why?" They have a small fight about Ephram.

Colin asks if Amy is going to rescue Ephram every time, and I wonder what the hell Colin's talking about. When else has Amy "rescued" Ephram? And for Colin to be so bitter about it, it would have happened recently and possibly within his sight. The piano recital doesn't count as a "rescue." Or if it DOES, then Colin really needs to take a pill.

Amy tries to evoke some sympathy from Colin by saying that if it were Colin getting laughed at..., at which point Colin says, "I'd leave," which sounds remarkably sane. Why _is_ Ephram still there? So he can gaze at Colin in his suit? Colin calls Ephram a "glutton for punishment."

The small fight about Ephram has now turned into a large fight when Colin tells Amy that if she leaves, she shouldn't come back. _If Colin can't have Ephram, no one can._

Amy says she doesn't believe Colin, and that she'll get another ride home. She walks off. The camera shifts to Ephram sitting all alone with his purse. Amy enters the frame. Back to Colin, who can't believe Amy left him. He stands in the middle of the dance floor, confused. The soundtrack offers: "I'm not a big star yet..."

Ephram says he's at the special outcast table, and he's not sure she qualifies. Amy says Colin Hart gave her a pass. Turns out that's where Ephram got his, too. Amy's proving a point, but she doesn't know what it is. Way to assert yourself, Amy! Grrl power! Whoo! Or something.

Ephram's mumbling. He asks Amy to dance. Oh boy is Colin going to hurt him. Except Colin must have gone out to the parking lot to smash some windshields with his forehead because that's the only reason Colin wouldn't be on that dance floor, yelling and grabbing at Ephram.

 

This is what I like to call the SURPRISE ABORTION ENDING. It turns out Berlanti was fucking with us. Harold gives us this long speech about The Way Things Were and how his father was the one person in the community that women could go to for help, and his father made Harold promise that he would promise to continue helping women who needed him. Harold will perform the abortion instead of Andy.

See, we were supposed to develop ideas about Harold and his anti-abortion "not in my town" stance and decide he was the Bad Guy. Except Harold's the Good Guy! Don't we feel ridiculous for forming our opinions of Harold based on the information Harold originally gave us? We should have known better and reserved judgment until the SURPRISE ABORTION ENDING. Don't we feel foolish?

 

Amy running around the high school track. Colin's standing by the bleachers, wearing his Miners jacket. He's graciously there to allow her to apologize to him. Amy's not buying it.

Amy talks up Ephram, saying, "I've chosen you over Ephram about a thousand times.... He hasn't just been a good friend to me. He's been a good friend to us." Mmm, if you squint, Amy's telling Colin to go make up with Ephram. I know, I'm practically cross-eyed over here, but I'm happy.

 

Nina's in her kitchen, wiping up an already pristine counter. Andy creeps in the back door. Nina's got two mugs set out on the table. She knew he'd come back to apologize.

 

Colin comes home, yelling to his mother that he's home. Already this is a Very Bad Sign. Remember what I said about us only seeing Colin's parents when it involves his physical health in some way? Yeah, things aren't looking too good for our beautiful boy.

Colin puts his Miners jacket on the banister, yells some more, grabs the milk out of the fridge, and takes a moment to support the notion that a woman's place is in the kitchen: "Hey, Mom, what's for dinner?"

Colin has a glass in one hand and the milk in another, but he stops as if he doesn't understand what they are. The glass falls to the floor, so does Colin. Dammit.

 

Harold lets Kate out of his office. Kate, who had to wait until after hours to get her abortion. Operating under the cloak of darkness, etc. Edna takes care of Kate, giving Kate Edna's coat, which is too big for her. Because we hadn't been bashed over the head with symbolism for at least two or three minutes. I take it back. There was milk in the last scene. So, it'd been at LEAST 30 seconds.

Delia reads _The Last Unicorn_ to Andy, because, as iamsab points out, the unicorn turns into a woman at the end. Meanwhile, Harold walks into the church. Closed Captioning lets me know that Delia's reading was supposed to continue on to this scene as a voiceover. Harold goes into confession, and I'm momentarily worried that there's no priest in the other side of the booth! It's late! But my mom informs me there are certain hours. Let's hope Harold's there at the right time.

He bows his head: "Bless me, father, for I have sinned."

 

I can't say I admire Berlanti for writing an episode about abortion, but I can say I resent him for writing an episode about abortion where those are the last words spoken. There's no Irv voiceover, meaning Harold's standing in for God this week. We leave this episode with a feeling of darkness and guilt.

And then we get the teaser for next week, which leaves us with a sense of absurdity and alienation. Plus the feeling that the footage from this ep is just recycled from the Creek's _The Storm!_ Because, excuse me, Colin's poor little brain just snapped. Am I supposed to be invested in Ephram and Andy's little lake-front vacation? Because Ephram isn't going to fall into a lengthy coma because of his impractical swim, but Colin just might. I hate May.


	6. Fear Itself [1.22]

# Unabomber Fantasy Camp

 

The only thing we have to fear is the reeds...the reeds and the thromboses. The two things we should be most afraid of are the reeds and the thromboseses...and the gayness. The _three_ things we should be _most_ afraid of are the reeds, the thrombosesses, the gayness...and "Fear Itself."

[JARRING CHORD]

wearemany prechewed this episode for me, pointing out many delightful things such as Ephram's quilted jacket and the pure absurdity of Colin's plaid wallpaper. Plus she was right about Carl. But, really, it had to happen sometime. The gay, not wearemany being right.

After a long hard year of playing _Who's Gay In Everwood?_ , we all gathered in the library. Berlanti smoked his pipe and looked inscrutable. Then! At the last moment! He pointed his finger and announced the homosexual: _Carl! With the condom! In the skanky motel!_

What the fuck? We've been robbed, people. This is our big gay moment in the sun? They take a town where practically everybody's gay and give us Carl Feeney, the least gay guy in Everwood. My world is so unrocked.

But the important question is, what does this mean for Colin? They bring Carl back just in time for Colin to make his big decision about who he's going to be, and Carl is totally running to his family and away from himself. Carl's still trying to be the guy Everwood wants him to be, or, at least the guy _he_ thinks Everwood wants. Colin's struggling with the same problem. He's too worried about what other people think about him to decide what he thinks about himself.

In "Colin the Second," Carl was presented as a possible future for Colin the First. Carl's a man unable to commit to his family, a man who fancies himself the high school hero even though he's ten years past those days. As Nina says in this week's ep: "Life is about growing up, Carl. But you never grew up." Carl's still that high school jock who can't take responsibility for his actions and never thinks beyond tomorrow. Just like Colin the First, who got drunk, went driving with his friends, and put himself in the hospital for six months.

"Colin the Second" offered Colin a choice: He could accept the post-coma Colin he was, or go back and pick up where he left off as Colin the First. Colin choses to go backwards, to be the Colin everyone loved. In doing this he abandons Ephram, who had grown to trust and like Colin for who he is now. But Ephram worries about Colin, too, and Colin can't take that. Ephram loves him, and Colin can't take that, either. In "Miracle of Everwood," Colin proves just how much he can't take it. He throws a tantrum in front of the high school, yelling, "Dude, it's not what you think! You watch! I'm not like that! I'm not like that!" Colin is denying what Ephram sees in him, what Colin can see in himself.

It's no surprise then, to hear the same words coming out of Carl Feeney's mouth when Nina accuses him of having an affair (with some really spectacular gender-neutral pronouns). Carl insists: "I'm done with that. I don't want to be that person anymore." As if personal identity is as simple as the people you associate yourself with. Carl ran home to Nina because she supported his heterosexual family man image. She didn't see who he was, and so he was safe with her. Until recently, Amy fulfilled that role for Colin. Amy is safe. Ephram is not.

Ephram sees Colin the way Colin really is, and it endangers the persona Colin created to deal with the loss of his memories. Colin's working off the memories other people have of him (Amy, Bright, his parents), and Ephram's view of Colin doesn't mesh with the Colin Everwood remembers. So Ephram has to go. Colin alienates Ephram in an attempt to preserve the integrity of the "Colin" he's portraying.

Colin thinks he has to choose between his pre-coma and post-coma selves, but what he isn't ready to accept is that he's both these people. He's still got the parts of himself that attract Amy, and he's still this new person who has Ephram worrying over him. Colin is only one person, with both his selves in his poor damaged brain, and he's got to get to the point where he make the decision that both of his selves are worth saving. He thinks if he doesn't go through with the surgery he can die this tough, martyred boy-hero. More surgery is just more vulnerability, a third attempt to remake himself and merge the two people inside him. He's not ready for that.

Nina tells Carl, "You didn't choose someone else, Carl. You _are_ someone else." It's the big thorny issue of the physical impossibility of Nina being who Carl wants, but it's also that he misrepresented himself to her all those years. He lied to her by lying to himself. Carl isn't who he wanted to be. He's not the man he pretended he was. He's someone completely different, and he walks out the door, without even attempting to reconcile himself with Nina and the life he shared with her, as fake as it was.

I don't think the show wants us to link Colin's sexuality to his floundering identity and health, but it's too late. They should have satisfied their gay plot quota with a better suited character. But instead they picked Carl, because he's easy to get rid of and leaves Nina single for Andy. So I'm going to pretend they remembered how Carl represents a future version of Colin.

Carl is gay. He only stayed with Nina because she was safe and loved the Carl Feeney everyone wanted to be. Nina was the living proof of Carl's fame and success. Except, after his secret's out, both Carl and Nina admit that Carl is a failure. He's a failure because he didn't admit his fears and limitations. He couldn't be Nina's husband or Sam's father. He couldn't be Everwood's Carl Feeney, and that fear paralyzed him. He ran away while keeping his safe little snowglobe life waiting for him in Everwood, a reminder of his failure to fake it _or_ make it. Carl Feeney is a failure.

Colin is gay. He only stays with Amy because she's safe. He pushes her away, and pulls her back in. It's not because he's afraid to ask her to stay, or afraid that she'll leave. He needs to be in control of their relationship otherwise Amy will ask too much of him. She's not as passive as Nina. It took Amy a while, but she figured out Colin was playing her. She promptly forgot it after he made sad eyes at her, and she took his poor fevered head on her shoulder, but she knows he's not telling her something, just like Nina knew.

Colin has to choose between surgery or living with that ticking thrombus of insanity in his head. Colin thinks he has to choose between two different lives. The life he has now, or the third new Colin that will rise up post-op. Colin didn't have a choice the first time. He made the bad decision to drink and drive, but he had no say in the operation Andy performed. This time Colin has a choice and it terrifies him. Because having this choice means he accepts that this is his life now, his responsibility. His _job_. It's all up to him, and he has to decide to be the Colin Everwood thinks he is, or to be the Colin he actually is. Colin has to grow up. He has to admit who he is. Or, like Carl, he'll be a failure too.


	7. Home [1.23]

# He's pinin' for the fjords.

 

No, I don't know what it is about _Everwood_ that's making me think of Monty Python lately. Except perhaps it's eerily appropriate here with this episode named "Home." And if no one took Colin and beat him against a counter top, well, they certainly smacked us about the head.

The WB can't make up its mind about me. I'm either a drooling Cheez-Whiz case, or a brain surgeon. How can the same show that gives me Irv and his pre-chewed voiceovers think I'm capable of sitting still for nearly fifteen minutes of brain surgery talk? People keep telling me they liked the use of props in that pub scene with Andy and his old teacher, but all I was thinking in that scene was "Where are Andy's children?" and also "Andy just ate that guy's cherry." So I was understandably distracted.

 _Colin Hart's Day Off_ also had me asking questions. Questions like, "Whose car is that?" and "Why, god, WHY are they letting Colin and his potentially fatal thrombi drive?" That entire plot made me nervous because I kept expecting them to crash through the guardrail and die at any moment. On the plus side, you don't need me to put the gay spin on that diner scene with Colin and Bright.

On the minus side, where did Ephram and Colin's big gay love go? I never needed to look for the Ephram/Colin in this show. Since the moment Colin returned, he and Ephram have been circling each other. But right around "The Miracle of Everwood," I had to start a lot of my sentences, "This only makes sense if..." The gay was still there, it was just that the words coming out of Ephram's and Colin's mouth didn't make any sense. I decoded that though: Colin was just saying the opposite of everything he meant, and Ephram was reacting to everything Colin wasn't saying. There was, somewhere in their past, a big gay story arc we weren't privy to. It was the only way that episode made sense.

This episode may not even make sense through that filter. I may have gotten to the part where I'm reaching, and I don't like to reach. I've got Lex and Clark giving each other eyefucks on a regular basis. It's rare that a week goes by without Lex checking out Clark from top to bottom.

Colin and Ephram weren't about that. They had their little glances and their strange fights and their struggles with fitting in. In "Home" though, they only had one scene together, and it was awkward and fabulous and included a lot of staring. That was nice. And so, in honor of that scene, I'm going to reach. I'm going to start one more sentence with, "This only makes sense if—" and we'll see how things turn out next fall.

If we pretend everything I've said so far about Colin being gay and being like Carl Feeney is true, then Colin wasn't just saying goodbye to the people who were important to him, he was saying goodbye to that life. He was allowing for the possibility that these people may not want to be around him after his surgery, because Colin has decided to just be who he is, rather than who they see him as. He's allowing for the possibility he might be gay when everything in his brain finally settles down again, if it ever does.

Now, why didn't Colin make up with Ephram? Why did he leave things awkward and angry between them? Colin was all about the emotional maturity in this episode. If he wanted, he could have just sucked it up and shook Ephram's hand. Ephram could have even done it himself. They're both smart enough to realize this might be the end of Colin. They were good friends for a while there. _Better_ than friends if you buy my missing big gay arc idea. It doesn't make a lot of sense that they didn't say goodbye to each other. That's a lot of anger to take to what might be your deathbed.

Colin blames Ephram for something, and this seems bigger than Amy. Because no matter what happened at the spring formal, it's clear Amy's going to choose Colin over Ephram every time. Especially if Colin blinks his big sad eyes at her and...doesn't apologize. That's right. He got her back by being the same arrogant ass that made her break up with him in the first place. He even got HER to apologize to HIM. Way to be a manipulative brain-damaged jerk, Colin.

But, the question remains, why is Colin so stubbornly angry with Ephram? We know why Colin accepts Amy back into his life; she's his domestic security. We don't know how Bright squirms his way back in, but let's ignore that because he fulfills the role of Ferris Bueller's Cameron and that's all that matters. Ephram is supposedly Colin's competition, except we know he's not. The only way this makes sense is...if Ephram is Colin's ex-boyfriend. That's the kind of anger that can stop you from reconciling with someone before they go into surgery, a kind of "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction" sort of response.

In a lot of ways, Ephram is the first friend Colin made. Colin says he remembers most everything now, which is a nice story, but doesn't feel real to me. Maybe it doesn't feel real to Colin either. Ephram feels real to Colin. Ephram was his first friend, if not his oldest, and that makes saying goodbye to him even harder.

Whatever is going on between them, it's clearly not over. They linger together in the foyer, the _entrance way_ to the Brown home, and stare at each other. Andy has long since been a kind of surrogate dad to Colin, and for a while there, Ephram was the only one with any hope of understanding Colin. Perhaps Ephram is still the only one that can understand, and that's why Colin refuses to say goodbye to him. Maybe Colin is hoping if he survives this, he and Ephram can go back to being friends.

Or maybe I'm just reaching.


	8. Deer God [1.05]

# Deerus ex Machina

 

This is an exercise in: What can I say about "Deer God" that won't bore me to death?

Now, normally I love Ephram, but this episode had him talking to a _deer_. I don't care who you are, psychoanalyzing a deer is not going to make you the life of the party. Freud would probably have some interesting things to say about transference and sublimation, but he can write his own review.

This was an early episode, and that goes a long way towards explaining why everyone's overacting. Harold was nothing but a prototypical blowhard. Later he'll evolve into a caring father, still keeping a firm grip on his role as arrogant doctor, but here he's just annoying, unsympathetic, and self-involved.

Amy was a walking infodump this episode. I swear she talked for fifteen minutes and didn't say a thing. She was likable, though, and I've always enjoyed her interaction with Harold.

Rose: Still seriously invisible. Bright: Takes after his mother.

Edna is as over the top as ever, but while watching her on her bike talking to Delia, I realized how rare it is to have older women on television. Even if she is a mostly one-note character ("Back in 'Nam..."), Edna's about more than grandchildren and cookies. She's on her second husband, she has a motorcycle, she's a nurse, and a veteran. She's got the beginnings of an interesting character, but the show's not taking advantage of her. Mostly they use her as a chauffeur; she's basically Irv without the voiceovers.

Andy's like a caricature of himself, really hamming up his one-liners. And no matter how hard he's trying to be a good father to Ephram, he's totally abandoning his other child. Delia spends half her screentime on the show in the care of other people. I'm sure it's just because the writers don't know what to do with a 10-year-old girl, but this translates into Delia getting dropped off with Edna or Nina every time something exciting needs to happen between Ephram and Andy (see "Fear Itself"). Delia may adore Andy now, but one of these days she's going to grow up and realize her dad was never around for her.

And Ephram. Ephram, baby, don't feed the wildlife. I know you're sad and want to go back to New York, but it's a barren wasteland! A forest fire ripped through Central Park and Manhattan is nothing but—huh. I was going to say Manhattan was a charred crisp of land, but that's not funny because in many ways Manhattan _is_ burnt land. This show premiered in September 2002, and as I recall the network liked it for its return-to-the-land escapism in the wake of 9/11. Strange, now, that they'd be comparing New York to a destroyed forest. Not that the metaphor was about that, it was about the death of Ephram's mom and how there was nothing left for him in New York because the one thing he wanted from it was no longer there. Still, the opportunity for insensitivity exists in the metaphor.

But Ephram. Whiny whiny Ephram with his vaguely purple hair and his Oedipal issues. It's obvious Ephram was a momma's boy. It's even pretty apparent that Amy reminds Ephram of his mother. They have the same breezy sarcasm and immovable stubbornness. What's not immediately obvious is that Ephram's making a passive attempt on Colin's life by not asking Andy for his help. Ephram's trying to get rid of Colin so that Amy will be free. He does feel bad about it, and eventually confesses to Amy, but for a moment there, Ephram was a threat to the throne. He was going to kill the King of Everwood and marry the Queen.

Re: Deerus ex Machina. "Deus ex Machina" is Latin for "God in the machine." Among other things, it's a literary term referring to a sudden reversal in the last act of a play. It's when God, or a god/fate figure, swoops down from heaven and resolves the conflict. It happened a lot in Greek plays, though not _Oedipus Rex_. In modern days, this godly intervention or absurd stroke of luck is regarded as cheating because the conflict is not resolved organically.

I'm sure there's an actual screenwriting term for the way this deer was used in this episode, but I don't know it. Ephram was speaking to it as if he were speaking to himself. That boy needs therapy. They can give him some handpuppets and let him act out his angst with the help of a licensed professional. It would be less ridiculous than using a deer. Also notable was that the deer was a female, but Ephram called her "Bambi," which was a male deer. Gender issues anyone?

Secondly, God literally _was_ in the machine in Delia's subplot where she and Edna found God in the gas tank.

And here's our slashy thought for the episode. Isn't it wonderful that Amy's reading to Colin out of Ephram's graphic novels? Colin's going to wake up knowing a lot more about the Green Lantern than he ever did before. No wonder Colin hunted Ephram down in the bathroom in "The Price of Fame." Colin was subconsciously drawn to Ephram's comic geek aura. SHAZAM!


	9. Pilot [1.01]

# Everwood or Bust

 

I finally watched the _Everwood_ pilot. I have the 60 minute version, not the 70, so I either missed ten minutes of staggering insight into the emotional terrain of Andy and Ephram's relationship or 10 minutes of Irv jabbering at me. Either way, I'll live. I read the episode transcript instead.

A pilot is an introduction. It introduces characters, storylines, and themes. _Everwood_ has some of the most stubborn and recurring themes of any show on television, namely those dealing with home, family, and love. Everything we need to know about Everwood happens in this first episode. So I'm going to look at how the pilot introduces the rest of the season.

But first! Let's talk about how we have 12 months in a standard Gregorian calendar year. Now, the Browns are a little Jewish, so, if all else fails, we'll just assume they're using the Hebrew calendar. Not that this will help, at all, but. _sigh_

Here's the problem. Julia Brown died in or around February, right? There's snow on the ground. Andy Brown is clean shaven and looks sort of like a monkey. I can't explain it. He just does. The beard must balance out his enormous forehead or hide a weak chin or something.

Julia dies and Andy stops shaving. Andy goes into work about a week later, and I'm being generous here, it's probably more like the next day. He's got vague stubble in the shape of a beard. Andy tells the guy with the Great White Brain Tumor he can't help him, that at best he could prolong his life for eight months. He advises the guy to run like hell. And that's Andy's last patient in New York.

Next time we see Andy he's got an actual beard, though not as full as we know it from Everwood. He bribes Delia with a pony, and suddenly they're packing up their Manhattan apartment and moving to Everwood. The flashbacks imply that this all happened pretty quickly following Julia's death.

We get to Everwood and there's snow on the ground. Delia tells Irv that it's been eight months since her mother died, making this September, which makes sense because it's the beginning of the school year. But, my question, the thing that makes my head hurt and my eyes roll around, is: What happened to March through August?

We didn't even get a stinking _EIGHT MONTHS LATER_. Did Andy tell the kids they were moving and then wait four months for school to end? That must have fostered a nice atmosphere in the Brown home. But then there's the three months of summer vacation, did they spend that in New York or Everwood? Must have been in New York because it looked like they were still unpacking the house in this episode. So they spent eight months in New York after Julia died? With Andy and Ephram at each other's throats and Delia caught in the middle?

Here's my main problem. Andy was totally gung-ho about Everwood. If I were writing this show, he would have quit his job, packed up the kids, and driven to Everwood all within the same week. He's that crazed. Why, oh, why, then, the eight month delay? What happened during that time, and why didn't the flashbacks do _anything_ to address it? Because they want to drive me insane, that's why.

Moving on.

 

**Everwood 1.01: Everything I Needed to Know about Everwood I Learned in the Pilot**

**Home.**

Irv doesn't say it best, but he says it, so I might as well quote him:

> No, I wasn't there the day Dr. Brown's life changed forever. But I was around for many days thereafter. When he and his family would call Everwood, their home.

Those are the first lines of the pilot, delivered by way of Irv and his god-like voiceovers. It's also the show's thesis—Everwood as home—and from those first lines, this episode is already working on us to associate Everwood with home.

The show opens with that swooping stock New York City shot of Central Park's trees humbled before Manhattan's skyscrapers. We know that shot. We've seen it a million times before. It's not personal. It's just TV's version of New York. Over the top of this storybook image, Irv says:

> I wasn't there the day Dr. Andrew Brown's life changed forever. But like most folks in Everwood, I've heard the story enough times to be able to tell it. It begins where many stories begin, in the city of New York, where Dr. Brown lived comfortably with his wife and two children.

See, New York is only a place where stories live, not people. It's not home. It's a silver skyscraper full of fairytales and arrogant doctors with miraculous healing powers, but it's not home.

Andy only chooses Everwood because his wife told him to go there if anything ever happened to her. She also told him to grow a beard. And five years ago she told him to try listening to Ephram instead of talking at him. After ten years of being a miracle worker, Andy's leaving it all behind, jumping in head-first and taking all his wife's advice at once. (This is why the missing eight months confuses me so much! But we already established that.)

Throughout this first season, Ephram makes small moves towards calling Everwood home. At the end of "Deer God," Ephram identifies Amy as being his home, and on the way back to his house, he starts to read a copy of the _Everwood Pinecone_ , a newspaper he'd just been mocking an hour before.

Ephram's requests to move back to New York become less frequent as well, until in "Home," the season finale, they end all together. Ephram calls Everwood home and decides he doesn't want to go back to New York for the summer after all.

The pilot also establishes the custom of having a scene in the Browns' kitchen after the teaser. Every Everwood episode I've seen has Andy cooking something when we come back from the first commercial break. He gets steadily better at it, too. In the pilot, Delia says the scrambled eggs he makes smell funny and doesn't eat them. Twenty episodes later in "Moonlight Sonata," Andy makes an omelet that Delia eats and calls "good" even if we're not sure we believe Vivien Cardone's line reading.

Freud says food is a metaphor for sex, but he says that about everything. Here, food is a metaphor for parenting: nuturing, nourishment, and love. In one of the scenes that didn't survive the cut to 60 minutes, Andy offers to make Ephram pancakes. Ephram declines, yelling, "Go to hell!" Twenty- _one_ episodes later in "Episode 20" (yeah, someone can't count), Andy makes pancakes that look so good Ephram says he's scared of them. I refuse to subject myself to that episode again just to check this, but I'm pretty sure Ephram grabs one and eats it. There isn't even any yelling. He's coming to accept his father as a caregiver, a homemaker.

The other characters have their struggles with home as well. At the end of the pilot, Amy introduces Ephram to Colin's hospital bed and says that Colin grew up down the street from her and they used to do everything together. These days we know she was just suffering from selective nostalgia here since _Bright_ and Colin used to do everything together, up to and including teasing Amy, and it was only just a year ago that Amy stopped being annoying and started being a girlfriend. Colin is Amy's home. Except he's four hours away in Denver, and we know he'll never come home again, at least not the Colin she remembers.

Next door, Nina Feeney is pregnant, acting as a surrogate for a baby she'll give away; for now she's home to some child that will never know her. She tells Andy that her husband is wonderful, but away eight months of the year. From what we saw this season, he wasn't around for more than a week or two, total, so Nina's math is simply a product of wishful thinking. Her husband isn't wonderful. He's cheating on her. His home is somewhere else, and has been for a long time.

Even Edna's got problems with home. She remarried two months after her husband died, and her son effectively fired her for it. Harold resents her for moving on. Huh, that sounds like someone else we know.

 

**Ephram's looking for a girl just like mom and a boy just like dad.**

Ephram's love interests are reflections of his parents. I've mentioned before that Amy has the same breezy attitude as Julia. They're both light-hearted but fiercely loyal. They're loving and caring and encouraging. They're mothering. And in the pilot, they both flip their hair a lot. I know that's circumstantial at best, but there you go.

Amy and Nina are a lot alike too, especially if we count their long blonde hair and their choice of significant others. If Ephram sees his mother in Amy, Andy definitely sees Julia in Nina.

Speaking of significant others. I said Colin the First and/or Second and Carl Feeney were headed in the same self-denying, self-deluding direction. They're men who are denying their basic nature. Carl is gay and fighting it. Colin is struggling with remaking himself in the face of other people's expectations.

In "We Hold These Truths," Nina describes Colin as a charmer. The kind of kid who forgets to mow your lawn for two weeks, then when he finally comes you end up paying him for three. She might as well be describing Carl or Andy. Andy had that kind of relationship with Julia. I imagine he would ignore his family for weeks and then suddenly show up and give his all, or, all he was going to give. It was clearly enough for Julia, but never enough for Ephram.

From what we've seen of him, Colin the First was an arrogant jerk. So was Colin the Second _playing_ Colin the First. So was Carl. So was Andy. If Colin and Carl and Andy all share similar personality traits, such as arrogance and lack of dependability, then Andy's competition, Carl, is actually just the New York version of Andy. Andy was fighting against the man he was, and he doesn't win so much as Carl fails. That took care of the Carl/Nina/Andy triangle, which is hardly a triangle when compared to Colin/Amy/Ephram, but it does suggest that our teenagers won't settle down until Colin chooses between Amy and Ephram. Of course, Ephram has his own problems to overcome.

Our love triangle of Colin/Amy/Ephram has a ghost, the oldest one: father/mother/son. Colin and Amy have a similar relationship to Andy and Julia, and Ephram's tangled up in his love for all of them. In the pilot, Ephram loves his mother and hates his father and falls in love with Amy, but as the season progresses, Ephram and Andy's relationship improves and Ephram finds himself increasingly drawn to Colin. Ephram also discovers his mom wasn't perfect after all, but that doesn't make Ephram love her less, he just comes to understand that she had her flaws too, that it wasn't all his father's fault. In that, Amy is like Julia as well. Amy cheated on Colin, just like Julia cheated on Andy.

Ephram might profess to hate his father, and he probably does in that way all teenagers hate their parents, but as Edna says, "In my experience, when a father and son don't get along, it usually means they've got everything in common."

Ephram is the son of Andy and Julia, and takes after them both. In the final scene of the pilot, Ephram plays the piano and he and Andy apologize to each other for the things they said the day before, and though Ephram still thinks that Andy's beard is ugly, he admits it's somewhat distinguished too, which was why Julia though Andy should grow a beard.

Ephram is his mother without even knowing it, but he's also his father. Andy praises Ephram's playing, and Ephram says, "Mom used to say I had your hands." It's a gift to Andy, and Ephram knows that.

These characters have grown a lot this year. After a lot of yelling, they've finally found their home. I wonder what they'll be looking for next year.


End file.
